Don't throw yourself on the ground and cry that
way." He bent over her, vainly trying to keep his own voice from
trembling. "If I could have guessed what--telling this--this hideous
story would mean to you, I never should have let you do it. And it's all
my fault that you felt you ought to do it--partly because of those vile
speeches I made the other evening, partly because I've let you see how
wickedly discontented I've been myself, partly because you must have
heard me urging my own sister to make practically this same kind of a
marriage. Oh, if it's any comfort to you to know it, you haven't told me
in vain! Sylvia, do speak to me, and tell me that you believe me, and
that you forgive me!"
She managed to give him the assurance he sought, her desperate,
passionate voice grown gentle and quiet again. But she was too tired and
spent to be comforted. For a long time she lay so still that he became
alarmed, thinking she must have fainted again, and drew closer to her to
listen to her breathing; at first there was a little catch in it,
betraying sobs not yet wholly controlled, then gradually it grew calm and
even; she had fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion.
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