You are the beginning and end of life
to me. I love you with a passion that is killing me. I am an
emotional woman. I made shipwreck of myself because I thought I
loved a man. But, as God hears me, you are the only man I have
loved. You came to me like a breath of Heaven while I was in
Purgatory--and you have been Heaven to me ever since. It has
been play to you--but to me--"
I fell on my knees beside her. Each of the low half-whispered
words was a red hot iron. I had received last night the message
of her white face with incredulity. I had reviewed our past life
together and had found little warrant in it for that message. It
could not come from the depths. It was staggeringly impossible.
And now the impossible was the flaming fact.
I fell on my knees beside her.
"Not play, Judith--"
She put out her hand to check me, and the words died on my lips.
What could I say?
"For you it was a detached pleasant sentiment, if you like; for
me the deadliest earnest. I was a fool too. You never said you
loved me, but I thought you did.
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