Probably
it is true. I say nothing against her. But to bring the matter back to
yourself--for I believe you're hot-headed enough to do anything--what
would you think of her if you or anybody else persuaded her to do such
a treacherous thing?"
"She is not capable of treachery," he said somewhat stiffly. "If
you've got no more cheerful things to talk about, you'd better go to
bed, Jue. I shall finish my cigar by myself."
"Very well, then, Harry. You know your room. Will you put out the lamp
when you have lit your candle?"
So she went, and the young man was left alone in no very enviable
frame of mind. He sat and smoked while the clock on the mantelpiece
swung its gilded boy and struck the hours and half hours with unheeded
regularity. He lit a second cigar, and a third; he forgot the wine.
It seemed to him that he was looking on all the roads of life that lay
before him, and they were lit up by as strange and new a light as
that which was beginning to shine over the world outside. New fancies
seemed to awake with the new dawn. For himself to ask Wenna Rosewarne
to be his wife! Could he but win the tender and shy regard of her eyes
he would fall at her feet and bathe them with his tears. And if this
wonderful thing were possible--if she could put her hand in his
and trust to him for safety in all the coming years they might live
together--what man of woman born would dare to interfere? There was a
blue light coming in through the shutters.
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