"I have the right," she answered desperately, without pride and without
shame. "I had the right before I got my divorce--"
"I understand," said Corinna, and her voice was scarcely more than a
breath. Though she did not withdraw the hand that the other had taken,
she looked away from her through the French window, into the garden
where the twilight was like the bloom on a grape. The fragrance became
suddenly intolerable. It seemed to her to be the scent not only of
spring, but of death also, the ghost of all the sweetness that she had
missed. "I shall never be able to bear the smell of spring again in my
life," she thought. She had made no movement of surprise or resentment,
for there was neither surprise nor resentment in her heart. There was
pain, which was less pain than a great sadness; and there was the
thought that she was very lonely; that she must always be lonely. Many
thoughts passed through her mind; but beyond them, stretching far away
into the future, she saw her own life like a deserted road filled with
dead leaves and the sound of distant voices that went by.
Pages:
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441