The Impending Sword: A Novel (Vol. 3 of 3)Yates, Edmund
General
The Impending Sword: A Novel (Vol. 3 of 3)
Yates, Edmund
Fiction
'There will be no need for my seeing Mr. Warren, will there?' said
Helen, in a low voice, her face for the first time changing and
assuming an expression of deep distress and anxiety. 'O Thornton, keep
that from me if you can!'
'I don't foresee that there will be any necessity at all for your
seeing him,' returned Thornton, 'if it is repugnant and unpleasant for
you to do so; and I need not say that we will make every effort to
extract such full information from him as to enable us to act without
any further reference either of him or ourselves to you. You know that
well, Helen, and therefore you will be prepared, in case we should
find it indispensable to bring him in contact with you, to acquiesce
in the necessity--will you not?'
'Of course I will. I have only asked you to spare if possible, and "if
possible" means not at the expense of avenging my Alston. I will bear
anything for that purpose, and few things could be more painful to me
than an interview with Trenton Warren.'
'I think I know why,' was Mr. Duval's comment upon her words and her
expression, spoken inwardly of course, and with the additional
reflection that he had known few stronger situations, with more to be
made out of them, than the present.
'What are you going to do for the rest of the day?' said Thornton
Carey. 'Are you going to try to sleep?'
'No,' she replied; 'I have had enough of unnatural sleep, and natural
sleep won't come to me just yet. I am going to see my child for a
while, as long as I can bear it, and Miss Montressor has been good
enough to promise to come to me.'
'Clara is a good soul,' said Bryan Duval parenthetically and heartily.
'Is she here now?'
'I think so,' said Mrs. Griswold. 'She promised Mrs. Jenkins that she
would come early, and I fear that she has been detained. Now that this
morning's work is over, you will not object, will you, Thornton,' she
said, raising her eyes to him with a look of dependence and
submission, from which he shrunk, so full was it of her helplessness
and her pain, 'that I should take to her who saw my Alston last? Do
you know, Mr. Duval,' she continued, turning to the actor, and
producing the same effect upon him by that infinitely pathetic look,
'I have been thinking that the very last person to whom he ever spoke
a friendly word must have been Miss Montressor or yourself--I wonder
which it was?'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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