I don't know myself what success would
do to me. Plenty, probably." He smiled. "It isn't the past your
people won't forgive me, Lily. It's my failure to succeed in what
they call success."
"It isn't that," she had said hastily. "It is--they say you are
inflammatory. Of course they don't understand. I have tried to
tell them, but--"
"There are fires that purify," he had said, smilingly.
She had gone home, discontented with her family's lack of vision,
and with herself.
She was in a curious frame of mind. The thought of Louis Akers
repelled her, but she thought of him constantly. She analyzed him
clearly enough; he was not fine and not sensitive. He was not even
kind. Indeed, she felt that he could be both cruel and ruthless.
And if she was the first good woman he had ever known, then he
must have had a hateful past.
The thought that he had kissed her turned her hot with anger and
shame at such times, but the thought recurred.
Had she had occupation perhaps she might have been saved, but she
had nothing to do. The house went on with its disciplined service;
Lent had made its small demands as to church services, and was over.
Pages:
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201