'I think I am--quite,' she answered faintly.
He bent his head. 'I hope, I hope you are,' he whispered.
In the pause which followed, the ticking of the clock in the hall
seemed to grow loud; and he turned a little aside to remove the
mask. She breathlessly awaited the operation, which was one of some
tediousness, watching him one moment, averting her face the next;
and when it was done she shut her eyes at the hideous spectacle that
was revealed. A quick spasm of horror had passed through her; but
though she quailed she forced herself to regard him anew, repressing
the cry that would naturally have escaped from her ashy lips.
Unable to look at him longer, Barbara sank down on the floor beside
her chair, covering her eyes.
'You cannot look at me!' he groaned in a hopeless way. 'I am too
terrible an object even for you to bear! I knew it; yet I hoped
against it. Oh, this is a bitter fate--curse the skill of those
Venetian surgeons who saved me alive! . . . Look up, Barbara,' he
continued beseechingly; 'view me completely; say you loathe me, if
you do loathe me, and settle the case between us for ever!'
His unhappy wife pulled herself together for a desperate strain. He
was her Edmond; he had done her no wrong; he had suffered. A
momentary devotion to him helped her, and lifting her eyes as bidden
she regarded this human remnant, this ecorche, a second time. But
the sight was too much.
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