And from the sheer force of circumstances, as
it seemed to me then, Mrs. Falchion's hand was often on my arm; and her
voice was always in my ear at meal-times and when I visited Justine Caron
to attend to her wound, or joined in the chattering recreations of the
music saloon. It was impossible not to feel her influence; and if I did
not yield entirely to it, I was more possessed by it than I was aware. I
was inquisitive to know beyond doubt that she was the wife of this man. I
think it was in my mind at the time that, perhaps, by being with her
much, I should be able to do him a service. But there came a time when I
was sufficiently undeceived. It was all a game of misery in which some
one stood to lose all round. Who was it: she, or I, or the refugee of
misfortune, Number 116 Intermediate? She seemed safe enough. He or I
would suffer in the crash of penalties.
It was a strange situation. I, the acquaintance of a day, was welcome
within the circle of this woman's favour--though it was an unemotional
favour on her side; he, the husband, as I believed, though only half the
length of the ship away, was as distant from her as the north star.
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