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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"Colonel Quaritch, V.C. A Tale of Country Life"

"
"I?" she said, opening her eyes widely; "who am I that I should judge
you? However bad you may be, I am worse."
"Perhaps there are excuses to be made for both of us," he said;
"perhaps, after all, there is no such thing as free will, and we are
nothing but pawns moved by a higher power. Who knows? But I will not
keep you any longer. Good-bye--Belle!"
"Yes."
"May I kiss you before I go?"
She looked at him in astonishment. Her first impulse was to refuse. He
had not kissed her for years. But something in the man's face touched
her. It was always a refined and melancholy face, but to-night it wore
a look which to her seemed almost unearthly.
"Yes, William, if you wish," she said; "but I wonder that you care
to."
"Let the dead bury their dead," he answered, and stooping he put his
arm round her delicate waist and drawing her to him kissed her
tenderly but without passion on her forehead. "There, good-night," he
said; "I wish that I had been a better husband to you. Good-night,"
and he was gone.
When he reached his room he flung himself for a few moments face
downwards upon the bed, and from the convulsive motion of his back an
observer might almost have believed that he was sobbing. When he rose,
there was no trace of tears or tenderness upon his features.


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