The Secret Places of the HeartWells, H. G. (Herbert George)
General
The Secret Places of the Heart
Wells, H. G. (Herbert George)
England -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Psychological fiction
She appeared as an advocate, without affection for her client but
without any hostility, of the claims of Miss Grammont to be let alone.
The elaborate pretence that Sir Richmond had maintained to himself that
he had not made love to Miss Grammont, that their mutual attraction had
been irresistible and had achieved its end in spite of their resolute
and complete detachment, collapsed and vanished from his mind. He
admitted to himself that driven by a kind of instinctive necessity he
had led their conversation step by step to a realization and declaration
of love, and that it did not exonerate him in the least that Miss
Grammont had been quite ready and willing to help him and meet him half
way. She wanted love as a woman does, more than a man does, and he
had steadily presented himself as a man free to love, able to love and
loving.
“She wanted a man to love, she wanted perfected fellowship, and you have
made her that tremendous promise. That was implicit in your embrace. And
how can you keep that promise?”
It was as if Martin spoke; it was her voice; it was the very quality of
her thought.
“You belong to this work of yours, which must needs be interrupted or
abandoned if you take her. Whatever is not mortgaged to your work is
mortgaged to me. For the strange thing in all this is that you and I
love one another--and have no power to do otherwise. In spite of all
this.
“You have nothing to give her but stolen goods,” said the shadow of
Martin. “You have nothing to give anyone personally any more....
“Think of the love that she desires and think of this love that you can
give....
“Is there any new thing in you that you can give her that you haven’t
given me? You and I know each other very well; perhaps I know YOU too
well. Haven’t you loved me as much as you can love anyone? Think of all
that there has been between us that you are ready now, eager now to set
aside and forget as though it had never been. For four days you have
kept me out of your mind in order to worship her. Yet you have known
I was there--for all you would not know. No one else will ever be so
intimate with you as I am. We have quarrelled together, wept together,
jested happily and jested bitterly. You have spared me not at all.
Pitiless and cruel you have been to me. You have reckoned up all my
faults against me as though they were sins. You have treated me at times
unlovingly--never was lover treated so unlovingly as you have sometimes
treated me. And yet I have your love--as no other woman can ever have
it. Even now when you are wildly in love with this girl’s freshness and
boldness and cleverness I come into your mind by right and necessity.”
“She is different,” argued Sir Richmond.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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