the notch on the ax and on being found out-第92章
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conflicting emotions。 Alan pressed me closer to him; while the
silence seemed to throb with the beating of his heart and the
panting of his breath。 But except for that he remained motionless;
gazing at the golden message before him。 At length I felt a
movement; and looking up saw his face turned down towards mine; the
lips quivering; the cheeks flushed; the eyes soft with passionate
feeling。 〃We are saved; my darling;〃 he whispered; 〃saved; and
through you。〃 Then he bent his head lower; and there in that room
of horror; I received the first long lover's kiss from my own dear
husband's lips。
。 。 。 。 。 。
My husband; yes; but not till some time after that。 Alan's first
act; when he had once fully realized that the curse was indeed
removed; wasthrowing his budding practice to the windsto set
sail for America。 There he sought out Jack; and labored hard to
impart to him some of his own newfound hope。 It was slow work; but
he succeeded at last; and only left him when; two years later; he
had handed him over to the charge of a bright…eyed Western girl; to
whom the whole story had been told; and who showed herself ready
and anxious to help in building up again the broken life of her
English lover。 To judge from the letters that we have since
received; she has shown herself well fitted for the task。 Among
other things she has money; and Jack's worldly affairs have so
prospered that George declares that he can well afford now to waste
some of his superfluous cash upon farming a few of his elder
brother's acres。 The idea seems to smile upon Jack; and I have
every hope this winter of being able to institute an actual
comparison between our small boy; his namesake; and his own three…
year…old Alan。 The comparison; by the way; will have to be
conditional; for Jacketthe name by which my son and heir is
familiarly knownis but a little more than two。
I turn my eyes for a moment; and they fall upon the northern corner
of the East Room; which shows round the edge of the house。 Then
the skeleton leaps from the cupboard of my memory; the icy hand
which lies ever near my soul grips it suddenly with a chill
shudder。 Not for nothing was that wretched woman's life interwoven
with my own; if only for an hour; not for nothing did my spirit
harbor a conflict and an agony; which; thank God; are far from its
own story。 Though Margaret Mervyn's dagger failed to pierce my
flesh; the wound in my soul may never wholly be healed。 I know
that that is so; and yet as I turn to start through the sunshine to
the cedar shade and its laughing occupants; I whisper to myself
with fervent conviction; 〃It was worth it。〃
End