"Oh, boy! How sweet that sounds to me! Say it over again to me! You
make me think I might some day be worth a man's love. It's got away
from us now. It's all too late. Everything's too late. When he--Mr.
Rawn--comes back, we've got to tell him. I've done what I was set to
do--but not the way he thought, not the way any of us thought!"
IX
"Yes, he must know!" Halsey nodded. He held her hand now in his own.
They swept on, as upon some vast wave, helpless, clinging to each
other, he doing what he could to save her.
"I don't know how to tell him," she wailed. "There was something Pagan
in me and I didn't know it. I thought I was in hand, but I wasn't! I
started low, and I wanted to climb up--and up--and up! Oh, Charley,
look!" She leaned toward him across the table, pleading. "I was just
ambitions, just like any American girl--like every woman in the world,
I suppose. If I sold out, I didn't know it. I didn't _want_ you to
care for me. But you did, you do! I kept away from you, so that you
wouldn't, so that we _couldn't_--so that I'd always feel that _you_, at
least--"
"Where can it end?" he asked quietly.
"I don't care where it ends, that's the worst of it; I don't care! One
thing only is to my credit. I've kept my bargain--with him. I've paid
the price I agreed to give. There is no scandal about me--yet. And
there might have been!"
"Yes."
"But some way, when he sent me out for you, talked to me as he did,
treated me like a piece of merchandise as he did--for once I wavered.
For once, Charley, it seemed to me that I was released from all
obligations to him, that I was where I ought to have a chance for my
own hand, to see life as life could be for itself, to have the love
that's life for a woman. I wanted to be wooed and won by some one who
loved me, just as any woman wants to be, Charley, some time! And I
wasn't--I wasn't.... It was horrible.... It was horrible.... I
wanted to give love for love. I wanted what I couldn't get, and saw it
was too late to get it fair. And when I saw that you--that even you'd
sell out for _me_--why, where was the good, clean thing left in all the
world? I couldn't tell. I didn't know what to do. I don't know now.
But you put these papers before me now, and you expect me to shed tears
over them. I can't. I don't care. The worst was over for me before
now. It came when I knew you'd love me if I'd raise a finger to you.
Why didn't you make me love you first--long ago? _Then_ all would have
come right. Back there--at first--"
"They'll say that when your husband lost his fortune he lost his wife.
Yes--" he nodded. "They'll say that and believe it! That isn't true!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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