They had vowed without priest or witness. The heart speaks eloquently in
symbols first, and afterwards in stumbling words.
It seemed to Roscoe at this moment, as it had seemed for some time, that
the words would never be spoken. And was this all that had troubled
her--the belief that Mrs. Falchion had some claim upon his life? Or had
she knowledge, got in some strange way, of that wretched shadow in his
past?
This possibility filled him with bitterness. The old Adam in him awoke,
and he said within himself "God in heaven, must one folly, one sin, kill
me and her too? Why me more than another! . . . And I love her, I love
her!"
His eyes flamed until their blue looked all black, and his brows grew
straight over them sharply, making his face almost stern. . . . There
came swift visions of renouncing his present life; of going with
her--anywhere: to tell her all, beg her forgiveness, and begin life over
again, admitting that this attempt at expiation was a mistake; to have
his conscience clear of secret, and trust her kindness. For now he was
sure that Mrs. Falchion meant to make his position as a clergyman
impossible; to revenge herself on him for no wrong that, as far as he
knew, he ever did directly to her.
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