The Mystery of the LocksHowe, E. W. (Edgar Watson)
General
The Mystery of the Locks
Howe, E. W. (Edgar Watson)
City and town life -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Mystery fiction; Nebraska -- Fiction
"That is worth thinking about. The next time I take a long ride into the
country I will think it over, if I can get you out of my mind long
enough. One thing, however, is certain; I want to follow you, wherever
that leads me. Let me add, too, that in what I have said I intend no
disrespect. It would be impudent in me, a single pebble in the sands
surrounding the shores of eternity, to speak ill of a faith which is
held by so many thousands of intelligent and worthy people. I speak
freely to you, as my wife, my confidant, that you may know what I am."
"But you are leading, Allan, and I am following," she said. "You are
kind enough to believe that my future is assured, but it is not unless
you are saved. You can save both of us by saving yourself. If we were at
the judgment now, and you should be cast out, I would follow you. I
might be of some use to you even there."
"That's horrible to think about," he replied, rising to his feet; "but
it pleases me. Anyway, little woman, we get along delightfully here; I
hope we will always be as well off as we are now. If the next world
affords me as much pleasure as this one has during the past three
months, I shall be more than satisfied. It is said that a man is very
happy when he is in love, and I am growing more in love with my wife
every day. I suppose it is because I never was in love before. I have
had extensive experience in everything else; I know a little of
everything else. This may be the reason why my honeymoon lasts so long."
"When I met you that afternoon, out in the hills," she answered, "you
were such an expert at love-making that I was at first afraid of you. If
ever man made a desperate, cunning love to a woman, you made it to me;
but I soon got over my timidity, and knew you were only desperately in
earnest, which made me love you until I went mad. I had nothing to give
you but myself, and that I gave so readily that I sometimes fear--when
you are away from me; I never think of it at any other time--that you
accuse me for it."
"It so happened," he answered, "that you did exactly what I wanted you
to do, though I am not surprised at it now, since discovering how
naturally you do a hundred things a day to please me. Accuse you?"
He laughed good-naturedly at the thought.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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