But have you thought
of me? You have no right to leave me unless you've ceased to care--"
"It's because I care--"
"Then I have a right to be heard. If you love me you can't leave me."
Her eyes defied him.
"Why not?"
He dropped her hands and rose from her side.
"Can you?" he said sadly.
The hour was late and the lamp flickered and sank. She stood up with a
shiver and turned toward the door of her room.
V
At daylight a sound in Lydia's room woke Gannett from a troubled sleep. He
sat up and listened. She was moving about softly, as though fearful of
disturbing him. He heard her push back one of the creaking shutters; then
there was a moment's silence, which seemed to indicate that she was
waiting to see if the noise had roused him.
Presently she began to move again. She had spent a sleepless night,
probably, and was dressing to go down to the garden for a breath of air.
Gannett rose also; but some undefinable instinct made his movements as
cautious as hers. He stole to his window and looked out through the slats
of the shutter.
It had rained in the night and the dawn was gray and lifeless. The cloud-
muffled hills across the lake were reflected in its surface as in a
tarnished mirror. In the garden, the birds were beginning to shake the
drops from the motionless laurustinus-boughs.
An immense pity for Lydia filled Gannett's soul. Her seeming intellectual
independence had blinded him for a time to the feminine cast of her mind.
Pages:
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108