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Updated: May 12, 2025
His blood was warm; his nerves wrought up. He was anxious to see the woman who had stirred him so profoundly the night before. "Here you are," he said, repressedly, feeling a spring in his limbs and an elation which was tragic in itself. "Yes," said Carrie. They walked on as if bound for some objective point, while Hurstwood drank in the radiance of her presence.
His blood was warm; his nerves wrought up. He was anxious to see the woman who had stirred him so profoundly the night before. "Here you are," he said, repressedly, feeling a spring in his limbs and an elation which was tragic in itself. "Yes," said Carrie. They walked on as if bound for some objective point, while Hurstwood drank in the radiance of her presence.
It was the doctor who spoke at last. "God knows that if I could, I'd change with you even now, Landor," he said repressedly. "I'd change with you gladly." A moment he stood so, tense as a wire drawn to the point of breaking, ghastly tense; then of a sudden he went lax. Instinctively his fingers sought his pockets, and there where he stood he started swiftly to roll a cigarette.
"He's merely given me up." "He knows, Bess?" Blank unbelief was on the questioner's face, something else as well, something akin to exultation. "Yes," repressedly. "He's known since that first night." "And he hasn't objected, hasn't done anything at all?" Just for an instant, ere came second thought, the old defiance, the old pride, broke forth.
"Good-morning!" answered a voice, one neither abnormally high nor repressedly low, the kind of voice the man seldom heard in the society to which he was accustomed one natural, unaffected, frankly interested. The owner thereof came forward, held out her hand. Two friendly brown eyes smiled up at him from the level of his shoulder. "I know without your introducing yourself that you're Mr.
Under its influence he halted, waiting, postponing the inevitable. "There could be but one other way," repeated the voice slowly, repressedly. "Tell me, please. Let me know all. Am I not right?" To hesitate longer was needless cruelty; and in infinite pity, the blow fell. "Yes, How," said Manning gently, "Bess is dead." An hour had passed.
In the semi-darkness the man looked at her. Against the lighter sky her face stood out distinct, clear-cut as a silhouette. "I do not think it ever right to live a lie, Bess," he answered. "Not even to keep another, who is innocent, from suffering?" "No," quickly, "not even to keep another from suffering." The girl shifted restlessly, repressedly.
"I feel that I owe you an explanation as well," he said repressedly. "Would you like to hear?" "Yes if you don't mind. If you'd prefer not to, however " "No, I'd rather you understood than to go that way." The doctor cleared his throat in the manner of one who smokes overmuch. "We all have our skeleton hid away somewhere, I suppose.
"You would not be interested." "Elizabeth " syllabalised, reproachfully. "Am I not your cousin?" No answer. "Haven't you forgiven me yet?" The voice was very low. Its owner was again very near. "You'd laugh at me if I told you," repressedly. "You wouldn't understand." Slowly, meaningly, Clayton Craig drew away resumed the former position; the place from which, unobserved, he could himself watch.
Craig looked at her meaningly; then with an obvious effort he checked himself "Thank you," he completed repressedly. This time the girl did not smile. "Don't you realise yet that sort of thing is useless?" she queried unemotionally. It was the man this time who was silent. "If you wish to stay," went on the girl monotonously, "do so; but for once and all do away with acting.
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