Murder in Any Degree
t were dropping back into the night, as though sinking under the rise of that black, mysterious flood that came luminously from the obscure regions of the
tched out into an impulsive clasp, the dramatic harmony of the body, the brooding head, the soft, half-revealed line of the neck. The troubling alchemy of the night, that b
he opera and the multitude, which would again flatter and intoxicate her. The summer had passed without a doubt, and now, all at once, something new came to him
ngland appeared, like the red cinder in a pipe, slipping toward the horizon. It was
ouching her arm. "There
au-with its funny
med only fraught with an ineffable sadness, the end of all things, the tearing asunder and the
s la
es
oes f
er
poignant to approach the things that must be said. Suddenly, with the savage di
ke poison-
anguish in the pain in his voic
ly, "back to the great public that will po
ust b
ot felt before, an instinct to make
u want
eyes were searching his face. He felt ashamed of what he had
r jewels, those jewels
to-ni
happy without the
was about to continue, she laid her fingers on his lips,
u don't u
med as natural to her dark beauty as the roses to the spring. He had tried to understand her woman's nature, to believe that no memory yet lingered abo
re than I have changed
ith instinctive dramatic sense,
n't understand you
you und
because I wi
e said abruptly. "You know wha
contrary-to protest that I would give it
and yet, this last night-here-I shoul
ugh and caught his h
ispleas
ot!" Presently she a
must say to each other and
have never talked of
how absolutely I have become yours. When I told you my life, you did not wonder how difficult it was for me to believe that such a thing could be possible. But you convinced me, and what has come to me has come as a miracle. I adore you. All my life has been lived just for this great love; ah yes, that'
hear it," he sa
now, the first unselfish longing I have ever had-to sacrifice myself for you in some way, somehow. It is more than a hunger, it is a need of the soul-of my love itself. It comes over
said mech
oneliness of the human soul, and that impulse it must have before these things that are beyond us, that surround us, dominate us, to cling almost in terror to another soul. You have so completely made me over that it is as though you had created me yourself. I am thirty-five. I have known everything else but what you have awakened in me, and because I have this knowledge and this hunger I can see clearer what we must do. You and I ar
s dissipate, and impatiently he waited for her to end, to show her that his weakness o
d give up the opera and become to you simply a housewife, if there was no longer any difficulty in our having each other, you would still love me-yes, because you are loyal-but the romanticism, the mystery, the longi
, I
y day together precious because it will be a day nearer the awful coming of another separation. Believe me, I am right. I have thought much about it. You have your diplomatic career and your ambitions. You are proud. I have never asked you to give that up to follow me. I would not insult you. In January you will have a
his lips to her forehead. "I was
m jealous," sh
ou
of every woman who comes near you. It will be an agony," she said, and t
right," h
had proclaimed her love, and yet this love, without illusions, sharply recalled to him other passions. He remembered his first love, a boy-and-girl affair, and sharply contrasting it with a sudden ache to this absence of impulse and illusions, of phrases, vows, without logic, thrown out in the sweet madness of the moment. Why had she not cried out something impulsive, prom
ken but a dozen steps, and yet he had placed a thousand miles between them. He had almost a
is ri
mparison with this all-absorbing impulse, had yet given him a certain objective point of v
suffer!" he s
om me," she said suddenly, wa
ods. He returned hastily, and sat down beside her. She too
she said. "Y
" he said
he months tha
the
, withdrawing a little as th
not a corner of your heart that I
el
e, you have need of strength, you don't go on alone. That is the genius of women like y
stand," she
t I'm afraid of,"
g of the artist,
efface it. Only you will be lonely, you'll have your trials and annoyances, days of depression, of doubt, when you will need some one to restore your faith in y
Manon, do you think I see who is playing Des Grieux? Not at all. He is there, he gives me my replique, he excites my nerves, I say a thousand thi
e doesn't
y moods, to my needs, and when I have no longer need of them, I go off tranquilly. That is all there is to it. I take from them what I want.
ut sincerity. Then he blurted out, "I w
hy
nd besides, you put a doubt in my
t do
e you, or only a
en
to myself. I accept the necessity of separation. I know all the sufferings it will bring, all the doubts, the unreasoning jealousies. I am big enough in experience to understand what you have just suggested to me, but as a man who loves you, Madeleine, I will never understand it. I know that a dozen men may come i
t w
t, overpowering love and a little one. I still believe it-with my mind. I know it is so. These are the things we like to analyze in human nature together. I know it is true, but it is not true for me. No, I would never understand it in you. I know myself too well, I am jealous of everything of the past-oh, insanely jealous. I know that no sooner are you gone than I will be tortured by the most ridicul
Ben-frightful,
s. Shall I tell y
ha
had never told me a
ings? We have been honest wi
fear that I will not always be first in your heart, only I understand the needs, the habits, of your nature. I understand myself now as I have n
ut
that I may remember to
e neve
es such a confession mean? It only means that you free your conscience and that the wou
im, her head dropped back, her arms motionless, one finger
r there are thoughts I cannot bear now that I've known you." He flung himself at her side and took her roughly in his arms. "Madeleine, I know what I am saying. I may tell you the contrary later. I may say it lightly, pretending it is of no importance. I may beg t
then on his forehead to calm him
you will hate all other women. There will never be the slightest deceit or infidelity between us. Ask any questions of me at any time. I know
t hands, yielding up all his doubts, he was conscious of a new alarm creeping into his heart; and, dissatisfied with w
ause she believes it o