The love in him she found to be dead. He was not even
moved by the piteousness of her appeal. There, then, it must end.
It was not his nature to choose the most graceful, the kindest way
to end it. He snapped it off as, across the knees, you break a faggot
for the burning. And that, too, is the only way to do it.
"I didn't come up here," he said, "to discuss anything. The whole
thing's discussed in my mind. When I saw you running after the car,
pushing your way along the gutter--that ended it. You'd better read
through your settlement now and if you don't think I've been generous
enough, tell me to-morrow morning. I shall be downstairs till
eleven."
He opened the door--passed through--closed it. She listened to each
one of his steps as he descended the stairs, her mouth hanging open,
her eyes struck in a fixed glare at the spot where he had stood. Then,
when she heard him close his door below, she just crumpled up in an
abandoned heap upon the floor, and with each breath she
moaned--"Oh--oh--oh."
Traill, undressing below, heard it. With a muttered exclamation, he
dragged his shirt over his head and flung it violently into the corner
of the room amongst the bundle of dirty linen.
Pages:
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424