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Locke, William John, 1863-1930

"The Morals of Marcus Ordeyne : a Novel"

"
"But Mademoiselle is not dead?" cried Antoinette, with a shiver.
"How can Monsieur talk of such things? It makes me fear, the way
Monsieur speaks."
"It makes me fear, too, Antoinette," said I, gravely.
When she had gone I took the box of furs upstairs and laid it
unopened on Carlotta's bed and came away, relocking the door
behind me.

November 9th.
I have formed a great resolution. I have devoted the week to the
envisagement of things, and while I lay awake last night the
solution came to me as something final and irrevocable.
Mistrusting the counsels of the night, when the brain is unduly
excited by nervous insomnia, I have applied the test of a day's
cold reason.
I have broken a woman's heart. I have spurned the passionate
love of a woman who has been near and dear to me; a woman of
great nature; a woman of subtle brain who has been my chosen
companion, my equal partner in any intellectual path I chose to
tread; a sensitive lady, with all the graciousness of soul that
term conveys. Heaven knows what a woman can see in me to love.


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