"
She wrenched herself free from me, and a terrified cry of
"Marcus!" checked my dithyrambic appeal. She shrank away so that
a great corner of the dining-table separated us, and she stared
at me as though my words hats been the affrighting utterance of a
madman.
"Marcus! What do you mean?" she cried, with an unnatural
shrillness in her voice.
"I mean," said I, "I mean--I mean that 'crushed by three days'
pressure, my three days' love lies slain.' Time has withered him
at the root. I have buried him deep in unconsecrated ground,
like a vampire, with a stake through his heart. And I have come
back to you, Judith, humbly to crave your forgiveness and your
love--to tell you I have changed, dear--to offer you all I have
in the world if you will but take it--to give you my life, my
daily, hourly devotion. My God!" I cried, "don't you believe
me?"
She still stared at me in a frightened way, leaning heavier on
the table. Her lips twitched before they could frame the words
"Yes, I believe you. You have never lied to me.
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