We are of the earth. Records remain. If a man plays
the fool, the coward, and the criminal, he must expect to wear the fool's
cap, the white feather, and the leg-chain until his life's end. And now,
please, let us change the subject. We have been bookish long enough." She
rose with a gesture of impatience.
I did not rise. "Pardon me, Mrs. Falchion," I urged, "but this interests
me so. I have thought much of Anson lately. Please, let us talk a little
longer. Do sit down."
She sat down again with an air of concession rather than of pleasure.
"I am interested," I said, "in looking at this question from a woman's
standpoint. You see, I am apt to side with the miserable fellow who made
a false step--foolish, if you like--all for love of a selfish and
beautiful woman."
"She was beautiful?"
"Yes, as you are." She did not blush at that rank compliment, any more
than a lioness would, if you praised the astonishing sleekness and beauty
of its skin.
"And she had been a true wife to him before that?"
"Yes, in all that concerned the code."
"Well?--Well, was not that enough? She did what she could, as long as she
could.
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