The beds huddled
together, no space between them; sickness, fever----"
"I am only shutting my ears," interrupted Sibylla. "You pretend to be so
careful of me--you would not even let me go to that masked ball in
Paris--and yet you put these horrid pictures into my mind! I think you
ought to be ashamed of it, Lionel. People sleeping in the same room with
us!"
"If the picture be revolting, what must be the reality?" was his
rejoinder. "_They_ have to endure it."
"They are used to it," retorted Sibylla. "They are brought up to nothing
better."
"Just so. And therefore their perceptions of right and wrong are
deadened. The wonder is, not that Alice Hook has lost herself, but
that----"
"I don't want to hear about Alice Hook," interrupted Sibylla. "She is
not very good to talk about."
"I have been openly told, Sibylla, that the reproach should lie at my
door."
"I believe it is not the first reproach of the kind that has been cast
on you," answered Sibylla, with cutting sarcasm.
He did not know what she meant, or in what sense to take the remark; but
his mind was too preoccupied to linger on it.
Pages:
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760