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Updated: August 27, 2024
As long as she could she had fed the flame within her soul fed it with every bitter thought and harsh judgment which her brain could evolve and yet that flame had slackened and smouldered and finally died out entirely. Self-shame, self-scorn even, could not rekindle it.
The intellectual man who kills himself is most often brought to that decision by conviction of his insignificance; self-pity merges in self-scorn, and the humiliated soul is intolerant of existence. He who survives under like conditions does so because misery magnifies him in his own estimate.
As Sylvia went slowly and wearily up to her room a sudden horror of Lacville swept over her excited brain. For the first time since she had been in the Villa du Lac, she locked the door of her bed room and sat down in the darkness. She was overwhelmed with feelings of humiliation and pain. She told herself with bitter self-scorn that Paul de Virieu cared nothing for her.
He did not even stoop to kiss her when he turned away. But all the treasure of faith and truth and love had died out of his face, the veriest dullard could have seen; his very youth had dropped away from him, and he left the old, innocent dreams behind, with something like self-scorn. "Good-by," he said; "we have lost a great deal, Dolly or I have lost it, I might say.
Her pains and pleasures were intensely real, like those of her class. If there were latent powers in her distorted brain, smothered by hereditary vice of blood, or foul air and life, she knew nothing of it. She never probed her own soul with fierce self-scorn, as this quiet woman by her side did; accepted, instead, the passing moment, with keen enjoyment.
Rose, when she came in, had locked the door, torn off her dress and her ornaments, and flung herself on the edge of her bed, her hands on her knees, her shoulders drooping, a fierce red spot on either cheek. There for an indefinite time she went through a torture of self-scorn.
All the world seemed to know where we were and how long we intended to stay; for you are aware how absurdly we democratic and republican Americans worship rank and title; and how certain our reporters would be to chronicle the movements of Lord and Lady Vincent," said Claudia, with that air of world-scorn and self-scorn in which she often indulged.
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