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Do not suppose that he did not love Amanda, that a rich majority of his being was not triumphantly glad to have won her, that the image of the two armour-clad lovers was not still striding and flourishing through the lit wilderness of his imagination. For three weeks things had pointed him to this.
Amanda Loomis plumped her hands down on her knees, and leaned forward; it was good to listen, but, oh, how much better it was to speak! "I don't," she said, with gloomy emphasis. "If you ask me what I reelly think, Mis' Penny, it's that. I don't think we shall ever set eyes on that blessed child again.
I say mean people are more like the copperhead, that hides in the grass and leaves that are like its own color, and when you ain't expectin' it and without any warnin', he'll up and strike you with his poison fangs. What are you goin' to do about it, Amanda?" "Do? I'll do nothing. What can I do?" "You might go round and see the directors and ask them to vote for you," suggested Millie.
"I see now that I despised jealousy because I assumed that it was impossible for Amanda to love any one but me; it was intolerable to imagine anything else, I insisted upon believing that she was as fastidious as myself and as faithful as myself, made indeed after my image, and I went on disregarding the most obvious intimations that she was not, until that still moment in the Indian Ocean, when silently, gently as a drowned body might rise out of the depths of a pool, that knowledge of love dead and honour gone for ever floated up into my consciousness.
These moorland breezes how redolent, how murmurous of what had been! In a few moments Amanda closed her eyes, the wind caressing her into peacefulness and singing her to slumber. It was the hour before dawn the dark hour when minutes walk with leaden feet and the departing vapours of night lay chilliest finger on the sick and dying, and on those who watch at their side.
"Rash man, forbear;" pronounced Amanda, her face darkening with displeasure; "you counsel me to evil. Though I would esteem you as I would some annunciating angel, beyond impeachment of veracity, and bent on a generous errand, you seem as a fallen spirit now; tempting me, not enlightening. No, Montigny, no. Shall I deceive my guardian so kind, shall I defraud your house, your father, you?
We've got to capture London. We've got to scale it. We've got advantages of all sorts. But at present we're outside. We've got to march in." Her clear hazel eyes contemplated conflicts and triumphs. She was roused by Benham's voice. "What the deuce are you thinking of, Amanda?" She turned her level eyes to his. "London," she said. "For you." "I don't want London," he said. "I thought you did.
"That gal is worth any seven grown-up women in town. And she was four nights settin' in my kitchen before I knowed what she was up to." "So you taught her, Amanda? "I taught her some. She callated that Milly was killin' you, and I guess she was."
"What a darling name! How could anybody call a place that! Suppose it had grown to be a large city." "Then they would probably have changed the name. Perhaps they have already done so, I haven't heard from there for years." "Why didn't you keep up your relatives' acquaintance?" "Well, Aunt Amanda died, later, and her husband never cared much for me, anyhow.
"I don't know about it being serious; it is certainly Saturday," said Laura. "Death is always serious," said Amanda. "I never said I was going to die. I am presumably going to leave off being Laura, but I shall go on being something. An animal of some kind, I suppose. You see, when one hasn't been very good in the life one has just lived, one reincarnates in some lower organism.
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