Blind Love

"You have told me all," she repeated. "All! Good Heavens! All!"

"I have hidden nothing from you. Now there is nothing more to tell."

She stood perfectly still--her hands clasped, her eyes set, her face

white and stern.

"What I have to do now," she said, "lies plain before me."

"Iris! I implore you, make no change in our plans. Let us go away as we

proposed. Let the past be forgotten. Come with me--"

"Go with you? With you? With you? Oh!" she shuddered.

"Iris! I have told you all. Let us go on as if you had heard nothing.

We cannot be more separated than we have been for the last three

months. Let us remain as we are until the time when you will be able to

feel for me--to pity my weakness--and to forgive me."

"You do not understand. Forgive you? It is no longer a question of

forgiveness. Who am I that my forgiveness should be of the least value

to you--or to any?"

"What is the question, then?"

"I don't know. A horrible crime has been committed--a horrible,

ghastly, dreadful crime--such a thing as one reads of in the papers and

wonders, reading it, what manner of wild beasts must be those who do

such things. Perhaps one wonders, besides, what manner of women must be

those who associate with those wild beasts. My husband is one of those

wild beasts!--my husband!--my husband!--and--I--I am one of the women

who are the fit companions of these wild creatures."

"You can say what you please, Iris; what you please."

"I have known--only since I came here have I really known and

understood--that I have wrecked my life in a blind passion. I have

loved you, Harry; it has been my curse. I followed you against the

warnings of everybody: I have been rewarded--by this. We are in hiding.

If we are found we shall be sent to a convict prison for conspiracy. We

shall be lucky if we are not tried for murder and hanged by the neck

until we are dead. This is my reward!"

"I have never played the hypocrite with you, Iris. I have never

pretended to virtues which I do not possess. So far--"

"Hush! Do not speak to me. I have something more to say, and then I

shall never speak to you any more. Hush! Let me collect my thoughts. I

cannot find the words. I cannot. . . Wait--wait! Oh!" She sat down and

burst into sobbings and moanings. But only for a minute. Then she

sprang to her feet again and dashed back the tears. "Time for crying,"

she said, "when all is done. Harry, listen carefully; these are my last

words. You will never hear from me any more. You must manage your own

life in your own way, to save it or to spoil it; I will never more bear

any part in it. I am going back to England--alone. I shall give up your

name, and I shall take my maiden name again--or some other. I shall

live somewhere quietly where you will not discover me. But perhaps you

will not look for me?"