She walked with her hand resting lightly on his arm. He had offered it

to her on coming out of the Registry Office, and she had accepted it

silently. Her head drooped, she seemed to be turning matters over in her

mind. She said, alluding to the Fynes: "They have been very good to me."

At that he exclaimed:

"They have never understood you. Well, not properly. My sister is not a

bad woman, but . . . "

Flora didn't protest; asking herself whether he imagined that he himself

understood her so much better. Anthony dismissing his family out of his

thoughts went on: "Yes. Everything is yours. I have kept nothing back.

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As to the piece of paper we have just got from that miserable

quill-driver if it wasn't for the law, I wouldn't mind if you tore it up

here, now, on this spot. But don't you do it. Unless you should some

day feel that--"

He choked, unexpectedly. She, reflective, hesitated a moment then making

up her mind bravely.

"Neither am I keeping anything back from you."

She had said it! But he in his blind generosity assumed that she was

alluding to her deplorable history and hastened to mutter:

"Of course! Of course! Say no more. I have been lying awake thinking

of it all no end of times."

He made a movement with his other arm as if restraining himself from

shaking an indignant fist at the universe; and she never even attempted

to look at him. His voice sounded strangely, incredibly lifeless in

comparison with these tempestuous accents that in the broad fields, in

the dark garden had seemed to shake the very earth under her weary and

hopeless feet.

She regretted them. Hearing the sigh which escaped her Anthony instead

of shaking his fist at the universe began to pat her hand resting on his

arm and then desisted, suddenly, as though he had burnt himself. Then

after a silence: "You will have to go by yourself to-morrow. I . . . No, I think I

mustn't come. Better not. What you two will have to say to each other--"

She interrupted him quickly: "Father is an innocent man. He was cruelly wronged."

"Yes. That's why," Anthony insisted earnestly. "And you are the only

human being that can make it up to him. You alone must reconcile him

with the world if anything can. But of course you shall. You'll have to

find words. Oh you'll know. And then the sight of you, alone, would

soothe--"

"He's the gentlest of men," she interrupted again.




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