"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"Do?" She raised her eyebrows. "I am going, of course."
"Where?"
She smiled.
"_Sais pas._ Let go my hands, please; you hurt me--Beau-papa!"
He flung away from her and stood by the window, staring with blinded
eyes into the street.
"This is really no good, you know," she went on in a conversational
tone; "we quarrel and squabble and are no earthly use to each other--the
whole position is bad. I think I will tell Theo, and go."
He did not answer, and after a pause she added: "Or marry him by special
license the day after to-morrow, and make him take me--somewhere--for a
few months."
"A--ah!"
She smiled at his groan.
"You and I have made fools of ourselves, haven't we? But it was natural.
I am very beautiful, and you are a very great genius, so----"
Maddened at her tone of indifferent justice, he turned, his face drawn
with pain.
"So it was natural? A childish fancy on your part, a senile one on mine?
A thing to--laugh at already! Oh, how _can_ you torture me like this?
You--you----"
"Devil? Or demon?" Her voice was mocking, but her lips had paled, and
she gasped a little as if breathless.
"Let's not be melodramatic, _please_.
Pages:
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249