And then I felt that I
could hate him, as much as I've always hated Di, deep down in my heart.
At that minute I should have liked to kill her, and watch his face when
he found her lying dead--out of his reach for ever.
"Besides," he hurried on, "I've never asked her yet if she would marry
me, because--my prospects weren't very brilliant. She knows of course
that I love her--"
"And if you get the consulship, you'll put the important question?" I
cut him short, trying to be flippant.
"Yes. But I told you tonight, because I--because you were so kind, I
felt I should like to have you know."
Kind! Yes, I had been too kind. But if by putting out my foot I could
have crushed every hope of his for the future--every hope, that is, in
which my stepsister Diana Forrest had any part--I would have done it,
just as I trample on ants in the country sometimes, for the pleasure of
feeling that I--even I--have power of life and death.
I swallowed hard, to keep the sobs back. I'm never very strong or well,
but now I felt broken, ready to die. I was glad when I heard the music
stop in the ballroom.
"There!" I said. "The two dances you asked me to sit out with you are
over.
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