“You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. Jackson, I could almost fancy we had met before. “He has a stubbly yellow moustache, weak eyes, and great horrid hands. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman. Washed in light from the vestry window, she held her ground, all thought at bay, bar the steel determination long ago instilled in her by her unconventional tutor. He stooped to recover it, and his face was hidden. I——” Then he stopped short, for he began to remember things. Before he re-entered the prison, he hesitated from a doubt whether he was not fearfully increasing his risk of capture; but, convinced that he had no other alternative, he went on. For a short time they allowed me to share the warmth of their lives. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind.
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