Henry Handel Richardson

“ To him, the gradual unfolding of their love had been a wonderful revelation; to her, a repetition, and a paler and fainter one, of a tale she already knew by heart. And the knowledge of this awakened a fresh distrust in him. If she had loved that first time, as she had asserted, as he had seen with his own eyes that she did, desperately, abandonedly, how had it been possible for her to change front so quickly, to turn to him and love anew? Was such a thing credible? Was a woman’s nature capable of it? ”

“ And the knowledge undermined their lives. If she was gentle and kind, he read into her words pity that she could give him no more; if she were cold and evasive, she was remembering, comparing; if she returned his kisses with her former warmth—well, the thoughts which in this case seized him were the most murderous of all.
His mental activity ground him down. But it was not all unhappiness; the beloved eyes and hands, the wilful hair, and pale, sweet mouth, could still stir him; and there came hours of wishless well-being, when his tired brain found rest. ”

“ But, jaded by his persistency, Louise would not admit it. “We should have nothing to remember.”
“That’s just it.”
“But it belongs to us!” She was roused to protest by the under-meaning in his words. “It’s as much a part of ourselves as our thoughts are—or our hands.”
“One is glad to forget. You would be, Louise? You wouldn’t care if your past were gone? Say you wouldn’t.”
But she only threw him a dark side-glance. As, however, he would not rest content, she flung out her hands with an impatient gesture. “How CAN you torment yourself so! ”

“ He would sometimes rather have been a labourer, worn out with physical toil. He was much alone, too; when he was not with Louise, he was given over to his own thoughts, and, day by day, fostered by the long, empty hours of practice, these moved more and more steadily in the one direction. The craving for a knowledge of the facts, for certainty in any form—this became a reason for, a plea in extenuation of, what he felt escaping him. ”

“ She wrenched her hands away. “Oh! . . .”
“Say you didn’t!”
“Maurice!—Be jealous, if you must! But surely, surely you don’t believe——”
“Oh, don’t ask me what I believe. I only know I won’t have that man hanging about. It was by a mere chance to-day that I came round earlier; he might have been here for hours, without my suspecting it. Who knows if you would have told me either?—Would you have told me, Louise?”
“Oh, how can you be like this! What is the matter with you?”
He put his arms round her, with the old cry. “I can’t bear you even to look at another man. ”

“ Then Herries rose. With her hand in his, he said earnestly: “Now you must be merciful and relent. I shan’t give up hope. Any time in the next fortnight is time enough, remember. ‘Pon my word, I’ve dreamt of those waltzes of ours ever since. And the floor at the PRUSSE is still better, don’t you know? You won’t have the heart not to come.”
From under her lids, Louise shot a rapid glance at Maurice. He, too, had risen; he was standing stiff, pale, and solemn, visibly waiting only till Herries had gone, to make himself disagreeable. She smiled. ”

“ The real truth, the last-reaching truth about her, it would not be his to know. Soul would never be absorbed in soul; not the most passionate embraces could bridge the gulf; to their last kiss, they would remain separate beings, lonely and alone. ”

“ With his hands on her shoulders, he rested his face on her hair. “Promise me you won’t see him again.”
Wearily, Louise disengaged herself. “Oh there’s always something fresh to promise. I’m tired of it—of being hedged in, and watched, and never trusted.” ”

“ As Maurice made no rejoinder, but remained standing in an uncompromising attitude, Herries turned to Louise again, and went on with what he had been saying. He was talking of England.
“I went back to Oxford after that,” he continued. “I’ve diggings there, don’t you know? An old chum of mine’s a fellow of Magdalen. I was just in time for eights’ week. A magnificent walk-over for our fellows. Ever seen the race? No? Oh, I say, that’s too bad. You must come over for it, next year.”
“Mr. Herries only returned from England a few days ago,” explained Louise, and again raised warning brows. ”

“ Louise threw in at random, after they had waited for Maurice to fill up the pause.
“Yes, for the winter semester, anyhow. And I’ve got to tumble to, with a vengeance. But I mean to have a good time all the same. Even though it’s only Leipzig, one can have a jolly enough time.”
Again there was silence. Louise flushed. “I suppose you’re hard at work already?”
“Yes. Got started yesterday. Frogs, don’t you know?—the effect of a rare poison on frogs.”
This trivial exchange of words stung Maurice. Herries’s manner seemed to him intolerably familiar, lacking in respect ”

“ I’ll let you know—will that do? A fortnight is such a long time. And then you’ve forgotten the chief thing. I must see if I have anything to wear.”
“Oh, I say! . . . if that’s all! Don’t let that bother you. That black thing you had on last time was ripping—awfully jolly, don’t you know?”
Louise laughed. “Well, perhaps,” she said, as she opened the door.
“Good business!” responded Herries.
He nodded in Maurice’s direction, and they went out of the room together. Maurice heard their voices in laughing rejoinder, heard them take leave of each other at the halldoor. ”

“ But he was unable to arouse in himself a very vital interest in his work; some prompter-nerve in him seemed to have been injured. And often, he was overcome by the feeling that this perpetual preoccupation with music was only a trifling with existence, an excuse for not facing the facts of life. ”