Hermione, it is very
difficult, I think, to realize what any human being is, to judge any
one quite accurately. Some judge a nature by the distance it can sink,
others by the distance it can rise. Which do you do? Do you judge
Delarey by his act of faithlessness? And, if you do, how would you
judge me?"
"You!"
There was a sound of wonder in her voice.
"Yes. You say I am an egoist. And this that I am saying will seem to
you egoism. It is egoism, I suppose. But I want to know--I must know.
How would you judge me? How do you judge me?"
She was silent.
"How are you judging me at this moment? Aren't you judging me by the
distance I fall, the distance, perhaps, you think I have fallen?"
He spoke slowly. He was delaying. For all the time he spoke he was
secretly battling with his pride--and his pride was a strong fighter.
But to-night his passion for sincerity, his instinct that for Hermione
--and for him, too--salvation lay in their perfect, even in their
cruel sincerity to themselves and to each other, was a strong fighter
also.
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