The Firing Line Part 93

"Nor I," he said gaily; "don't let's disappoint each other. You know our theory is that the old families are decadent; and I think we ought to try to prove any theory we advance--in the interests of psychology.

Don't you?"

"I think we have proved it."

He laughed, and pa.s.sing his arm around her drew her head so that it rested against his face.

"That is particularly dishonourable," she said in an odd voice.

"Because I'm married?"

"Yes; and because I know it."

"That's true; you didn't know it when we were at Palm Beach. That was tamer than this. I think now we can very easily prove our theory." And he kissed her, still laughing. But when he did it again, she turned her face against his shoulder.

"Courage," he said; "we ought to be able to prove this theory of ours--you and I together--"

She was crying.

"If you're feeling guilty on Shiela's account, you needn't," he said.

"Didn't you know she can scarcely endure me?"

"Y-yes."

"Well, then--"

"No--no--no! Louis--I care too much--"

"For yourself?"

"N-no."

"For me? For Shiela? For public opinion?"

"No."

"For what?"

"I--I think it must be for--for--just for being--decent."

He inspected her with lively interest.

"h.e.l.lo," he said coolly, "you're disproving our theory!"

She turned her face away from him, touching her eyes with her handkerchief.

"Or," he added ironically, "is there another man?"

"No," she said without resentment; and there was a certain quality in her voice new to him--a curious sweetness that he had never before perceived.

"Tell me," he said quietly, "have you really suffered?"

"Suffered? Yes."

"You really cared for me?"

"I do still."

A flicker of the old malice lighted his face.

"But you won't let me kiss you? Why?"

She looked up into his eyes. "I feel as powerless with you as I was before. You could always have had your will. Once I would not have blamed you. Now it would be cowardly--because--I have forgiven myself--"

"I won't disturb your vows," he said seriously.

"Then--I think you had better go."

"I am going.... I only wanted to see you again.... May I ask you something, dear?"

"Ask it," she said.

"Then--you are going to get over this, aren't you?"

"Not as long as you live, Louis."

"Oh!... And suppose I were not living?"

"I don't know."

"You'd recover, wouldn't you?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Well, you'd never have any other temptation--"

She turned scarlet.

"That is wicked!"

"It certainly is," he said with great gravity; "and I must come to the scarcely flattering conclusion that there is in me a source of hideous depravity, the unseen emanations of which, like those of the cla.s.sic upas-tree, are purest poison to a woman morally const.i.tuted as you are."

She looked up as he laughed; but there was no mirth in her bewildered eyes.

"There _is_ something in you, Louis, which is fatal to the better side of me."

"The _other_ Virginia couldn't endure me, I know."

"My other self learned to love your better self."