Adultery -- Fiction; Cuba -- Fiction; Runaway husbands -- Fiction
“To a great extent I have to; I don't want to appear to take so much for
granted. And then, only you can measure what I have to offer. I believe
what I have done is considered serious, if not ruinous; but that I can't
help thinking is exaggerated. I haven't been struck down yet. I don't,
candidly, now, expect to be. You ought to come to this through your
head, and not the heart, which I'd naturally prefer you to use. What,
in fact, I am asking you is to go away with me, to live with me. I shall
not, and you couldn't, very well, return. It's quite final, in other
words. I must find out, too, if the irregularity upsets you. That need
only be temporary. Grove and Fanny, I am sure, wouldn't persist in being
disagreeable. But, if they did, we'd have to face that as well, the
consequences of my--my impatience.
“No, don't answer so quickly. Do you know me, are you sure you'd be
happy, satisfied, with me? I have some money, not a great deal for
myself now; I should say fifteen thousand dollars a year. Fanny, very
rightfully--for herself and the children--will get most of what I have.
And then, are you wedded, if not to your individual life here, to New
York? We should have to go away to some place rather vague--”
“Cuba,” she broke in.
The irony of that suggestion carried him back to the many vainly
projected trips there with Fanny. His brother was in Cuba, it was true;
but that might turn out excellently: Daniel would be able to help
them in the difficult readjustments to follow. He was intelligent,
unprejudiced and calm and, Lee added, remote from the values, the
ponderous authority, of a northern hypocritical society. Then he forgot
that in the realization that Savina was going away with him, that
she was to be his, not for a solitary stolen night, but for years ...
openly, completely. He lost his self control and kissed her, heedless
of the open doors. Now she was cooler than Lee, and pushed him away.
“William will be in at any minute,” she explained:
“When shall we leave?”
“We might take a train tonight for Washington, since we'll need
passports and I have to have an income tax receipt, and we can manage
all that best there. Then Key West, Havana, anywhere. We will hope
to get off without trouble; but, if Grove interferes, accept the
consequences as they come.”
“Very well.” Savina grew still quieter as the march of events became
headlong. “I can live without a maid for a while. Tonight I won't dress
for dinner, this will do very nicely for the train; and come as soon
after as I can pack a bag. There will be literally nothing in it; my
summer things are all out of reach. Washington will be convenient for
me, too. Unless you want to see William again--” She rose.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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