Dr. Renton sank again into his chair. His tenant,--not a woman!--not
a sister in humanity!--but only his tenant; she sat crushed and
frightened by the wall. He knew it vaguely. Conscience was battling
in his heart with the stubborn devils that had entered there. The
phantom stood before him, like a dark cloud in the image of a man. But
its darkness was lightening slowly, and its ghostly anger had passed
away.
The poor woman, paler than before, had sat mute and trembling, with
all her hopes ruined. Yet her desperation forbade her to abandon the
chances of his mercy, and she now said,--
"Dr. Renton, you surely don't mean what you have told me. Won't you
bear with me a little longer, and we will yet make it all right with
you?"
"I have given you my answer," he returned, coldly; "I have no more to
add. I never take back anything I say--never!"
It was true. He never did--never! She half rose from her seat as if
to go; but weak and sickened with the bitter result of her visit, she
sunk down again with her head bowed.
Pages:
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50