“There is nothing else to be done,” said Arthur. He was as pale as
death. He seemed to get his breath with difficulty as he stood there,
struck with wonder, paralyzed with the sense of impotence in his mind,
and the dire injury that had been done him. A friend may leave a friend,
or even a child a parent; but when a wife, a six months’ bride, leaves
her husband even for a day, even in the house of her father, it is as if
some horrible convulsion had happened which turns the world upside down.
He said nothing more to anyone, but went out, and caught at Durant’s arm
to support him, and walked home under the flying clouds, through the
stormy, agitated night. The night was like his mind, swept by wild
thoughts, overclouded by profound glooms. He scarcely said anything to
Durant, who seemed to divine all that happened, though nothing was said
to him. It was well he was there. When they went back to the villa, the
poor little villa, which was at once so desolate and so meaningless
without Nancy, the young man gave a heavy groan, which seemed to echo
through the mean little rooms. Could anything change this fact, any
coming back again, any penitence? His wife had forsaken him. Nancy had
gone back to her mother’s. It might be only for a night, but could
anything change the fact? His life had come to a stop; no making up
could alter that. As he had been even this morning, he could never be
again any more.
It was Durant who told that little falsehood to the servants about why
their mistress stayed away. She was not well, he said, and they need not
wait up, as it was doubtful whether she would come home. And he stayed
by Arthur through the long dull hours, hearing in breaks and snatches
something of the story which poor Arthur felt was now over: how they had
lived together, and how, according to all he could tell, they had
parted. When the flood-tides were opened, it relieved Arthur to speak.
He showed his friend in his despair all that was in his heart, his love
for Nancy, which was ready to forgive everything, and yet the wounds
which she had given to him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account