Whose
idea was this marriage? His. Who had awakened Hector's hopes, and
encouraged them? He, always he. While he had been harmless, she
had been able to pardon him for having married her; she had
compelled herself to bear him, to feign a love quite foreign to her
heart. But now he became hateful; should she submit to his
interference in a matter which was life or death to her?
She did not close her eyes all night; she had one of those horrible
nights in which crimes are conceived. She did not find herself
alone with Hector until after breakfast the next day, in the
billiard-hall.
"Is it true?" she asked.
The expression of her face was so menacing that he quailed before
it. He stammered:
"True--what?"
"Your marriage."
He was silent at first, asking himself whether he should tell the
truth or equivocate. At last, irritated by Bertha's imperious tone,
he replied:
"Yes."
She was thunderstruck at this response. Till then, she had a
glimmer of hope. She thought that he would at least try to reassure
her, to deceive her. There are times when a falsehood is the highest
homage. But no--he avowed it. She was speechless; words failed her.
Pages:
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288