Therefore, for the
woman a sullen despair and its consequences; for the man a feverish
striving for that which he could never find, or, if found, would have
the gall in the nectar of having let slip the ability to unreservedly
and innocently enjoy.
And if sin be measured by its punishment! He recalled those years in
eternity, with their hell of impotence and inaction. He recalled the
torment of spirit, the uncertainty worse than death. And Weir? Surely
no two erring mortals had ever more terribly reaped the reward of
their wrong-doing.
What did it signify? That he was to give her up? that a love which had
begun in sin must not end in happiness? But his love had the strength
of its generations; and the impatient, virile, control-disdaining
nature of the man rebelled. Surely their punishment had been severe
enough and long enough. Had they not been sent back to earth and
almost thrown into each other's arms in token that guilt was expiated
and vengeance satisfied? Dartmouth stopped suddenly as this solution
presented itself, then impatiently thrust a chair out of his way
and resumed his walk.
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