Heaven
forgive me. I did not then know its terrors. It comforted for
the first few benumbed days, but now it is gathering around me
like a mysterious and appalling force. I crave the human
presence in my home. I need the woman's presence in my heart.
We shall live together then as man and wife, in defiance of the
world. Let the moralists blame us. We shall not care. It will
make little social difference to Judith, and as for myself, have
I not already inflicted public outrage on society? does not my
Aunt Jessica regard me as a wringer of the public conscience, and
does not my Cousin Rosalie mention me with a shudder of horror in
her tepid prayers? If I really give them cause for reprobation
they will be neither wiser, nor better, nor sorrier. And if the
baronetcy flickers out in unseemly odour, I for one shall know
that the odour is sweeter than that wherein it was lighted, when
my great-grandfather earned the radiance by services rendered at
Brighton to His Royal Highness the Prince Regent. This is the
only way in which I can make Judith reparation, the only way in
which I can find comfort.
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