These
two passions for this woman and for my own success were coordinate
forces, and their very equality it was that kept me passive, without
decisive action between them.
There was a sort of confusion in my brain--a longing to make some
protestations. The words crowded excitedly to my lips, but I kept
them closed. The conversation was on dangerous, critical ground. If
I began to speak now, in this frame of mind, I did not know what I
might say. My own brain was not sufficiently clear and collected. I
did not know myself quite how far that which she had said was the
truth. It is useless to talk vaguely and at random, or on mere
passing sensations of the moment. Before speaking to another, before
entering on a discussion, one must know exactly what one is saying--
be prepared to act in accordance with every statement, and accept
and realise the responsibility of each word, and all this at that
moment I was not,--far from it. I felt my thoughts disordered and
confused. Before my mental eye swam a mist of manuscript; before my
physical eye rose and fell that gently beating breast. I took out my
watch.
"It's a quarter past twelve, Lucia," I said, rising; "I must go."
The girl started to her feet and came in front of me.
"Victor, are you offended at what I said?"
I looked down at her with a slight smile.
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