I looked upon you as a friend. How could
I tell that you meant more than that? If I have deceived you, I can
only ask you with all my heart to forgive me."
He turned his head and looked at her. His eyes were dull and clouded,
as though a film had been drawn across them.
"Not you have deceived me," he answered quietly. "I have deceived
myself. I thought I was following a great God-sent light. It was
nothing more than a firefly glittering through my darkness. You are
not to blame."
He was already casting contempt at the influence which she had
exercised over him; he was cutting himself free from her--as she had
desired, as was inevitable. Yet, with a foolish, senseless anger, she
sought to draw him back to her and hold him, if only by the reverence
for what had been.
"Do not despise our friendship!" she pleaded. "If it has not been what
you thought it was, has it any the less opened the gates of Heaven and
earth, as you said? What I have given you is good--the very best I had
to give. The ideal was a high one. I helped you toward it with my
friendship. Is it bad because it was only friendship--because it
couldn't be more than that? You do not know," she went on, with a
forced attempt to appear cheerful and matter-of-fact, "you do not know
how much your trust and confidence has been to me. I have been so
proud to help you. If I had ever thought it would come to this--I
would have stopped long ago.
Pages:
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241