The Last Woman - Page 131/137

"Do ... they ... know--?"

"They know nothing save the one fact that we are to be married, that Doctor Moreley is to perform the ceremony, and that the members of his family are to act as witnesses. Nobody knows anything at all, save that. Nobody ever shall know. Your absence from New York has occasioned no suspicion--save only in the mind of one man, Radnor. The fact of our marriage will be published and broadcast at once, and even his suspicions will be stilled."

"And ... afterward ... after we are married--what?"

"We will discuss that question after the ceremony."

"No. We will discuss it now. Afterward--what?"

"You will be my wife, then. It is right and proper that you should return to New York, that you should live in my house. I shall take you there, and install you, properly. I shall insist upon that much. There is no way for you to escape the fulfillment of your contract. When you are my wife, you will have entered upon another contract which you will also keep. The contract to honor and obey."

"To love, honor, and obey," she corrected him.

"I shall not insist upon the first of those terms. The second one I shall endeavor to merit. The third one, I shall insist upon. Now, when will you--"

"Wait. You are sure that you do this because you love me?"

"Yes."

"And you are ready to sacrifice your name, your life, to a creature who, according to your view of conditions, should be the very last woman to bear your name--to become your wife? You do this because you love me? It must be a great love, indeed, Roderick, to compel you to such an act--oh it must have been a very great love, indeed."

"It is a great love; and there will be no sacrifice: there will be satisfaction."

She arose from the chair, but stood as she was, with her back toward him.

"You have forgotten one thing," she said, gently.

"I have forgotten nothing."

She raised her right arm, and pointed toward the house, through the trees.

"You have forgotten the man, in there," she said, no less gently. It was his turn to shudder, but he repeated with doggedness in his tone: "I have forgotten nothing."

"You mean to deal with him--afterward?"

"Yes."

"How? If I consent to all that you have asked, will you deal with him--gently?"

"Can you plead for him, even now, when--?"

"Hush! Answer my question, if you please."

"I will deal with him more gently than he deserves. I promise you that."

"I shall be satisfied with that promise." She turned about and faced him, and there was a smile on her lips, now, although Roderick entirely misunderstood the cause of it. He drew backward, farther away from her. But she followed after him, holding out one hand for him to take, and persisting in the effort when he refused to see it. There were tears under her lashes again, but she was smiling through them; and then, while she followed him, and he still sought to avoid her, Patricia lost all control over herself. She half-collapsed, half-threw herself upon the chair again, and buried her face in her hands, sobbing.