Within, he was
hard, he had no feeling of sympathy for her; the division between them
was absolute. With an angry movement she brushed the tears from her
cheeks. "I hate her," she said viciously; "she is a rotten detestable
woman."
"On the contrary," he replied, "Mrs. Grove, if you happen to mean her,
is singularly attractive. There is no smallness about her."
"Hell," she mocked him, "it is really too touching. When shall you see
her again?"
"Never." At once he saw that he had made a second mistake.
"How sad--never; I can't bear it. You both must have been wretched at
that long hopeless parting. And she agreed to let you go--back to your
wife and children." Fanny's voice was a triumph of contempt. "I ought
to thank her; or be magnanimous and send you back."
"This is all built on a ridiculous assumption," Lee reminded her; "I
even forget how we started. Suppose we talk about something else; Mrs.
Grove, as a topic, is pretty well exhausted." Fanny, narrow-eyed,
relapsed into an intent silence. She faded from his mind, her place
taken by Savina. Immediately he was conscious of a quickening of his
blood, the disturbed throb of his heart; the memory of delirious hours
enveloped him in a feverish mist more real than his wife sitting before
him with a drawn brow.
* * * * *
Usually after such scenes Fanny had flowered in a tender remorse for
their bitter remarks, the wasted opportunity of happiness; but again
she left him coldly, unmelted.
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