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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"Under the Red Robe"

I can better put up with force,' she added smiling sadly,
'than with fraud.'
Ah, Dieu! I turned away my face that she might not see how pale
it grew; that she might not guess how her words, meant in mercy,
stabbed me to the heart. And yet, then, for the first time,
while viewing in all its depth and width the gulf which separated
us, I was not hardened; I was not cast back upon myself. Her
gentleness, her pity, her humility softened me, while they
convicted me. My God, how, after this, could I do that which I
had come to do? How could I stab her in the tenderest part, how
could I inflict on her that rending pang, how could I meet her
eyes, and stand before her, a Caliban, a Judas, the vilest,
lowest thing she could conceive?
I stood, a moment, speechless and disordered; overcome by her
words, by my thoughts. I have seen a man so stand when he has
lost all at the tables. Then I turned to her; and for an instant
I thought that my tale was told already, I thought that she had
pierced my disguise. For her face was changed--stricken as with
fear. The next moment, I saw that she was not looking at me, but
beyond me; and I turned quickly and saw a servant hurrying from
the house to us.


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