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Updated: May 3, 2025
'I fancy I should have been tempted to tell her too, Cytherea went on, 'had I not found out that there exists a very odd, almost imperceptible, and yet real connection of some kind between her and Mr. Manston, which is more than that of a mutual interest in the estate. 'She is in love with him! exclaimed Owen; 'fancy that!
But in the shape above him it had been strangely modified from an apparently original purpose, made infinitely difficult if not impossible of understanding. His Cytherea bore the traces, the results, of old and lost and polished civilizations; there was about her even a breath of immemorial China.
'I have other suspicions 'Yes as you said' interrupted Owen, who had not till now been able to form the complicated set of ideas necessary for picturing the position. 'Yes, there is this to be remembered Cytherea had been taken from him before that letter came and his knowledge of his wife's existence could not have originated till after the wedding. I could have sworn he believed her dead then.
In that he felt outside her sympathy, she belonged with her mother; to Gregory he was far more nearly allied. Gregory, anyhow, had the potentialities of his own dilemma; he might, in years to come, be drawn out of a present reality by the enigma, the fascination, of Cytherea.
'And don't believe it? 'Not unless there was some other evidence to support the view. She paused a minute and then began hesitatingly I love Cytherea Graye with all my soul, and I want to see her happy even more than I do you.
Where the person suspected of mysterious moral obliquity is the possessor of great physical and intellectual attractions, the mere sense of incongruity adds an extra shudder to dread. The man's strange bearing terrified Anne as it had terrified Cytherea; for with all the woman Anne's faults, she had not descended to such depths of depravity as to willingly participate in crime.
She heard, without heeding, the notes of pianos and singing voices from the fashionable houses at her back, from the open windows of which the lamp-light streamed to join that of the orange-hued full moon, newly risen over the Bay in front. Then Edward began to pace up and down, and Cytherea, fearing that he would notice her, hastened homeward, flinging him a last look as she passed out of sight.
'Nothing that's of the slightest use, after all, he said to her; 'we are as far as ever from the merest shadow of legal proof that would convict him of what I am morally certain he did, marry you, suspecting, if not knowing, her to be alive all the time. 'What has Edward sent? said Cytherea. 'An old amatory verse in Manston's writing.
A clock on the landing struck three. 'Are you asleep, Miss Aldclyffe? whispered Cytherea. 'No, said Miss Aldclyffe. 'How wretched it is not to be able to sleep, isn't it? 'Yes, replied Cytherea, like a docile child. Another hour passed, and the clock struck four. Miss Aldclyffe was still awake. 'Cytherea, she said, very softly. Cytherea made no answer. She was sleeping soundly.
Yet he knew that the influential position, which, from whatever fortunate cause, he held on Miss Aldclyffe's manor, would never again fall to his lot on any other, and he tacitly assented to this dilemma, hoping that some consolation or other would soon suggest itself to him; married as he was, he was near Cytherea.
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