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The grey-haired General and his wife turned out to be agreeable and well-bred people, quite able to repay George's hospitality by the dropping of little compliments on the subject of Letty into his half-yielded ear. For his way of taking such things was always a trifle cynical.
I half-yielded to the impulse of sentimentality and turned to him appealingly. "James," said I, "why don't you right away before the country sees you are to be denied a renomination publicly announce that you won't take it in any circumstances? Why don't you devote the rest of your term to regaining your lost popularity? Every day has its throngs of opportunities for the man in the White House.
Now, when she did not answer, she felt a light but firmly insistent pressure as of his drawing her to him. Involuntarily, she half-yielded to him, her desire for the moment stronger than her will. Then suddenly she drew herself away, though permitting her hand still to remain in his. "You sure ain't afraid of me?" he asked, with quick compunction. "No." She smiled woefully.
It seemed to me that at this hour there was affection and sorrow in Heaven above for all pain suffered on earth beneath; the weight of my dreadful dream became alleviated that insufferable thought of being no more loved no more owned, half-yielded to hope of the contrary I was sure this hope would shine clearer if I got out from under this house-roof, which was crushing as the slab of a tomb, and went outside the city to a certain quiet hill, a long way distant in the fields.
"If Sonia, just now, had had one word, one gesture of contempt for me, I'd have given way yielded ... half-yielded, at any rate; for, rather than fall into your triumphant clutches, I'd have blown my brains out. I've now to choose between happiness, life with Sonia, or prison. Well, I've chosen. I will live happy with her, or else, my dear Guerchard, I'll die with you.
"Not Architecture! as all others are, But the proud passion of an Emperor's love Wrought into living stone, which gleams and soars With body of beauty shrining soul and thought; ... As when some face Divinely fair unveils before our eyes Some woman beautiful unspeakably And the blood quickens, and the spirit leaps, And will to worship bends the half-yielded knees, While breath forgets to breathe.
Michel Voss went home in a good humour, for he felt that he had triumphed; and poor Marie returned broken-hearted, for she was aware that she had half-yielded. She knew that her uncle was triumphant. When Edmond Greisse was back at Granpere he well remembered his message, but he had some doubt as to the expediency of delivering it.
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