At the moment when I showed myself in the doorway, Rachel rose from the

piano.

I closed the door behind me. We confronted each other in silence, with

the full length of the room between us. The movement she had made in

rising appeared to be the one exertion of which she was capable. All

use of every other faculty, bodily or mental, seemed to be merged in the

mere act of looking at me.

A fear crossed my mind that I had shown myself too suddenly. I advanced

a few steps towards her. I said gently, "Rachel!"

The sound of my voice brought the life back to her limbs, and the colour

to her face. She advanced, on her side, still without speaking. Slowly,

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as if acting under some influence independent of her own will, she came

nearer and nearer to me; the warm dusky colour flushing her cheeks, the

light of reviving intelligence brightening every instant in her eyes.

I forgot the object that had brought me into her presence; I forgot

the vile suspicion that rested on my good name; I forgot every

consideration, past, present, and future, which I was bound to remember.

I saw nothing but the woman I loved coming nearer and nearer to me. She

trembled; she stood irresolute. I could resist it no longer--I caught

her in my arms, and covered her face with kisses.

There was a moment when I thought the kisses were returned; a moment

when it seemed as if she, too might have forgotten. Almost before the

idea could shape itself in my mind, her first voluntary action made

me feel that she remembered. With a cry which was like a cry of

horror--with a strength which I doubt if I could have resisted if I had

tried--she thrust me back from her. I saw merciless anger in her eyes;

I saw merciless contempt on her lips. She looked me over, from head to

foot, as she might have looked at a stranger who had insulted her.

"You coward!" she said. "You mean, miserable, heartless coward!"

Those were her first words! The most unendurable reproach that a woman

can address to a man, was the reproach that she picked out to address to

Me.

"I remember the time, Rachel," I said, "when you could have told me that

I had offended you, in a worthier way than that. I beg your pardon."

Something of the bitterness that I felt may have communicated itself

to my voice. At the first words of my reply, her eyes, which had been

turned away the moment before, looked back at me unwillingly. She

answered in a low tone, with a sullen submission of manner which was

quite new in my experience of her.

"Perhaps there is some excuse for me," she said. "After what you have

done, is it a manly action, on your part, to find your way to me as

you have found it to-day? It seems a cowardly experiment, to try an

experiment on my weakness for you. It seems a cowardly surprise, to

surprise me into letting you kiss me. But that is only a woman's view. I

ought to have known it couldn't be your view. I should have done better

if I had controlled myself, and said nothing."




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