"
"Of that," I said, "neither you nor I can know with any certainty. But,
to be scriptural, she reaped where she had not sowed, and gathered where
she had not strawed. If she did not make the man love her,--I believe she
did, as I believe you would, perhaps unconsciously, do,--she used his
love, and was therefore better able to make all other men admire her. She
was richer in personal power for that experience; but she was not
grateful for it nor for his devotion."
"You mean, in fact, that I--for you make the personal application--shall
be better able henceforth to win men's love, because--ah, surely, Dr.
Marmion, you do not dignify this impulse, this foolishness of yours, by
the name of love!" She smiled a little satirically at the fingers I had
kissed.
I was humiliated, and annoyed with her and with myself, though, down in
my mind, I knew that she was right. "I mean," said I, "that I can
understand how men have committed suicide because of just such things. My
wonder is that Anson, poor devil! did not do it." I knew I was talking
foolishly.
"He hadn't the courage, my dear sir. He was gentlemanly enough to die,
but not to be heroic to that extent.
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