Men in my position do
not blacken women's eyes; but it is only a question of manners.
Was I, for that, less of a brute male than the scowling beast at
the organ?
The sudden sound of a sob made me turn to Judith, who had broken
down and was crying bitterly, her face hidden in her hands. I
bent and touched her shoulder.
"Judith--"
She flung her arms around my neck.
"I can't give you up, I can't, I can't, I can't," she cried,
wildly.
For the first time in my life I heard a woman give abandoned,
incoherent utterance to an agony of passion; and it sounded
horrible, like the cry of an animal wounded to death.
A guilt-stricken creature, scarce daring to meet her eyes, I bade
her farewell. She had recovered her composure.
"Make me one little promise, Marcus, do me one little favour,"
she said, with quivering lip, and letting her cold hand remain in
mine. "Stay away from her to-day. I couldn't bear to think of
you and her together, happy, love-making, after what I've said
this morning. I should writhe with the shame and the torture of
it.
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