She did not wish
to see him again--not see him again--not see him again - She
found herself repeating the words over and over; they shaped
themselves into a dreadful refrain. A nameless terror of the
future swept in upon her. She was cold and sick. It was as
though an icy hand was laid upon her heart. The words ran on in
endless repetition--not see him again--they held the very soul of
tragedy for her, yet she was roused to passionate protest. She
must not think of him, he was nothing to her. She was to be
married to another man, even now she was almost a wife--but
battle as she might the struggle went on.
There was the sound of a step on the path. Betty turned,
supposing it to be Tom; but it was not Tom, it was Carrington
himself who stood before her, his face haggard and drawn. She
uttered an involuntary exclamation and shrank away from him.
Without a word he stepped to her side and took her hands rather
roughly.
For a moment there was silence between them, Betty stared up into
his face with wide scared eyes, while he gazed down at her as if
he would fasten something on his mind that must never be
forgotten. Suddenly he lifted her soft cold hands to his lips
and kissed them passionately again and again; then he held them
in his own against his cheek, his glance still fixed intently
upon her; it held something of bitterness and reproach, but now
she kept her eyes under their quivering lids from him.
"What am I to do without you?"--his voice was almost a whisper.
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