The Sword of Damocles: A Story of New York LifeGreen, Anna Katharine
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The Sword of Damocles: A Story of New York Life
Green, Anna Katharine
Detective and mystery stories; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
“Paula, she refused. More than that, she expressed the bitterest scorn
of my mawkish conscientiousness, as she called it. That I should
consider myself as owing anything to the detestable wretch who was the
only representative of the Japhas, was bad enough, but that I should go
on treasuring the money that would save us, was disgraceful if not
worse, and betrayed a weakness of mind for which she had never given me
credit.
“‘But Ona,’ I cried, ‘if it is a weakness of mind, it is also an
equivalent to my consciousness of right living. Would you have me
sacrifice that?’
“‘I would have you sacrifice anything necessary to preserve us in our
position,’ said she; and I stood aghast before an unscrupulousness
greater than any I had hitherto been called upon to face.
“‘Ona,’ repeated I, for her look was cold, ‘do you realize what I have
been telling you? Most wives would shudder when informed that their
husbands had perpetrated a dishonest act in order to win them.’
“A thin strange smile heralded her reply. ‘Most wives would,’ returned
she, ‘but most wives are ignorant. Did you suppose I did not know what
it cost you to marry me? Papa took care I should miss no knowledge that
might be useful to me.’
“‘And you married me knowing what I had done!’ exclaimed I, with
incredulous dismay.
“‘I married you, knowing you were too clever, or believing you to be too
clever, to run such a risk again.’
“I can say no more concerning that hour. With a horror for this woman
such as I had never before experienced for living creature, I rushed out
of her presence, loathing the air she breathed, yet resolved to do her
bidding. Can you understand a man hating a woman, yet obeying her;
despising her, yet yielding? I cannot, _now_, but that day there seemed
no alternative. Either I must kill myself or follow her wishes. I chose
to do the latter, forgetting that God can kill, and that, too, whom and
when He pleases.
“Going down to the bank, I procured the bonds from my box in the safe. I
felt like a thief, and the manner in which it was done was unwittingly
suggestive of crime, but with that and the position in which I have
since found myself placed by this very action, I need not cumber my
present narrative. Handing the bonds to my agent with orders to sell
them to the best advantage, I took a short walk to quiet my nerves and
realize what I had done, and then went home.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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