She moved away without another word, going
slowly so that she should not overtake Henrietta.
4
Henrietta was going very fast, impelled by the fury of her thoughts,
and she forgot to be afraid of the lonely country, for she felt
herself still wrapped in the dangerous safety of that man's embrace,
and the darkness through which she went was still the palpitating
darkness which had fallen over her at his touch. The thing had been
bound to happen. She had been watching its approach and pretending it
was not there, and now it had arrived and she was giddy with
excitement, inspired with a sense of triumph, tremulous with
apprehension.
Her thoughts were not of her lover as an individual, but of the
situation as a whole. Here she was, Henrietta Mallett, from Mrs.
Banks's boarding-house, the chief figure in a drama and an unrepentant
sinner. She could not help it: she loved him; he needed her. Since
that day when she had offered him friendship and help, he had been
depending on her more and more, a big man like a neglected baby. She
had strenuously fixed her mind on the babyish side of him, but all the
time her senses had been attracted by the man, and now, by the mere
physical experience of the force of his arms, she could never see him
as a child again. She clung to the idea of helping him, to the thought
of his misfortunes, for that was imperative, but she was now conscious
of her fewer years, her infinitely smaller bodily strength, the
limitations of her sex.
Pages:
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210