"
And even though Lord Courtray's perceptions were rather thick he
wondered at her speech--it upset him.
"Look here, Tamara," he said, "don't you do it then if it is a chancy
sort of thing. Don't go and tie yourself up if you aren't sure you love
him."
Love him!--good God!--
Pent-up feeling overcame Tamara. She answered in a voice her old
playmate had never dreamed she possessed--so concentrated and full of
passion. In their English lives they were so accustomed to controlling
every feeling into a level commonplace that if they had had time to
think, both would have considered this outburst melodramatic.
"Jack," Tamara said, "you don't know what love is. I tell you I know
now--I love Gritzko so that I would rather be unhappy with him than
happy with any one else on earth. And if they ask you at home, say I
would not care if he were a Greek, or a Turk, or an African nigger, I
would follow him to perdition.--There!"--and she suddenly burst into
tears and buried her face in her hands.
Yes, it was true. In spite of shame and disgrace, and fear, she loved
him--passionately loved him.
Of course Jack, who was the kindest-hearted creature, at once put his
arm around her and took out his handkerchief and wiped her eyes, while
he said soothingly:
"I say, my child--there! there!--this will never do," and he continued
to pet and try to comfort her, but all she could reply was to ask him
to go, and to promise her not to say anything about her outburst of
tears to any one.
Pages:
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210