H. B. Marriott Watson

“ The dishonour of this fair woman so publicly proclaimed touched me to the quick. She made no answer. The frail body seemed to shrink, looked wan and pitiful; the white bosom rose and fell in a tumult; the eyes were wide and wild upon me, 'What is this you have done?' I cried.
'Had it been for you——' she whispered.
'My God!' I said. Her words choked back my scorn and indignation. Had it been for me she had sinned, I had forgiven her for her great temptation.
'I was so lonely,' she whispered. 'He left me to myself, used me unkindly. One must have distractions. ”

“ It was her eyes I watched in the blue waves; her frown clouded the skies; her smile danced in the ripples. To love her was no shame, I thought, though to proclaim that love had been dishonour. The touch of that land that contained her gracious body thrilled me as no fervour for my country had been able; to stand upon English soil was to be within the precincts of her worship. ”

“ I could no more withhold myself than my thoughts; hot-foot I drew into the town, with my unruly fever in my eyes. I meant no harm; I had even an inner joy of self-sacrifice; to see her was to put me to a new martyrdom, and yet I had pleasure in my torture. The Day of Judgment could not have stayed me from her. She had slipped out of my hands long since, but I was mad enough to take delight, as it were, in a dream of visiting her face anew; I should see once more the lines of intimate grace I carried in my soul, and, masking my memory, go strutting upon my stilts into a wonderful vainglory. ”