"Well--there were a many reproachful dream-faces, and every one of them
said to me:--'See what you have made of my life that might have been so
happy. See how you have con ...'" Gwen had very nearly said _condemned_,
but stopped in time. She could not refer to the demands of an eyeless
mate for constant help in little things, and all the irksomeness of a
home.
Adrian, pretending not to hear "con," spoke at once. "But did none of
these charming girls--I'm sure I should have loved heaps of them--did
none of them remind you that they were hypothetical?"
"Dear Mr. Torrens, I can't tell you how good and brave you seem to me
for laughing so much, and turning everything to a joke. But I _was_ in
earnest."
"So was I."
"_Then_ I did not understand."
"What did you think I meant?"
"I thought you were playing fast and loose with the nonsense about the
hypothesis. I did indeed."
"Well, I was serious underneath. Listen, and I'll tell you. This
_fiancee_ of mine that you seem so cocksure about has no existence. I
give you my honour that it is so, and that I am glad of it.... Yes--glad
of it! How could I bear to think I was inflicting myself on a woman I
loved, and making her life a misery to her?"
Gwen thought of beginning:--"If she loved you," and giving a little
sketch of a perfect wife under the circumstances. It never saw the
light, owing to a recrudescence of Marcus Curtius, who stood to win
nothing by his venture--was certainly not in love with Erebus. An act of
pure self-sacrifice on principle! Nothing could be farther from her
thoughts, be so good as to observe, than that she _loved_ this man!
He went on uninterrupted:--"No, indeed I am heartily glad of it. It
would be a terrible embarrassment at the best. I should want to let her
off, and she would feel in honour bound to hold on, and really of all
the things I can't abide self-sacrifice is.... Well, Lady Gwendolen,
only consider the feelings of the chap on the altar! Hasn't he a right
to a little unselfishness for his own personal satisfaction?" This was a
sad wet blanket for Marcus Curtius.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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