This vice, of which she was almost triumphantly conscious as though
it were a proof of her enduring vitality, she clutched eagerly to
herself. She did not wish that any human being should perceive it.
Of her husband she was not afraid--it would never possibly occur to
him that food was of importance to any one; Amy might discover what
she pleased, she was in strong alliance with her mother and would
never betray her.
Her fear was of Martin. She feared very deeply his influence upon
her husband. During Martin's absence she and Amy had managed very
successfully to have the house as they wished it; John Warlock, the
master, had been too deeply occupied with the affairs of the soul to
be concerned also with the affairs of the body.
She had, she believed, exercised an increasing influence over him.
She had always loved him with a fierce and selfish love, but now,
when he was nearly seventy, and to both of them only a few years of
earthly ambition could remain, she desired, with all the urgent
ferocity of a human being through whose fingers the last sands of
his opportunity are slipping, to seize and hold and have him
entirely hers.
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