“Perhaps only a refined and highly educated woman could have devised
so refined a punishment. ‘Let me live near you,’ she pleaded; ‘let me
live at the gate of the park I loved so well when I was a child—let
me see you pass sometimes—open the gate for you and just see you go
by—without a word, without a look even upon your part. It will be
some consolation for me in my lonely, loveless life. I shall know
that at least I am not forgotten.’ Forgotten? as if it had been
possible for me to forget, in the happiest circumstances, even if she
had made for herself a home at the farthest extremity of Europe, or
in the remotest of our colonies. As it was, her presence embittered
the place I loved—the great reward and aim of my life. Her shadow
fell across my young wife’s pathway—her influence darkened all my
days.”
He began to pace up and down the little room with a feverish air.
He seemed to find a sort of relief in talking of this burden which
he had borne so long in secret—borne with a smile upon his lips,
suffering that silent agony which strong men have borne again and
again in the history of mankind, carrying their silent punishment
upon them till the grave revealed the hidden canker, and laid bare
the festering wound which had rankled unsuspected by the world.
“She was cruelly treated by her husband, Theodore. A young and
beautiful woman, married to a profligate and a sot. It had been a
love-match, as the world calls it—that is to say, a marriage brought
about by a schoolgirl’s impatience to break her bonds, and a woman’s
first delight in hearing herself called beautiful. She had flung
herself away upon a handsome reprobate; and three or four years after
marriage she found herself alone and neglected in a shabby lodging in
one of the squalidest streets off the Strand. I can see the wretched
rooms she lived in, to-day, as I stand here—the lodging-house
furniture, the dingy curtains darkening the dirty windows looking
into the dirty street. What a home for youth and beauty!”
He paused, with an impatient sigh, took another turn across the
narrow space, and then resumed:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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