AC dBooks

But he only looked at me for a moment in silence, and then burst into a
flood of tears, and turned and ran out of the house.
Let who will say his tears were unmanly. To me they were the bitter cry
of a great heart, and I wanted to follow him and say, "Take me. Do what
you like with me. I am yours."
I did not do so. I sat a long time where he had left me and then I went
into my room and locked the door.
I did not cry. Unjust and cruel as his reproaches had been, I began to
have a strange wild joy in them. I knew that he would not have insulted
me like that if he had not loved me to the very verge of madness itself.
Hours passed. Price came tapping at my door to ask if she should lock up
the house--meaning the balcony. I answered "No, go to bed."
I heard the deadened thud of Martin's footsteps on the lawn passing to
and fro. Sometimes they paused under my window and then I had a feeling,
amounting to certainty, that he was listening to hear if I was sobbing,
and that if I had been he would have broken down my bedroom door to get
to me.


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