And all the time Cicely's soft eyes never ceased to
follow him. Clearly there was need for hurry, for they had not laid
aside their travelling-cloaks, and once or twice the young man paused in
his walk to listen. At length he pulled out his watch, glanced from it
to the clock in the corner, put it away with a frown and, striding up to
the hearth, flung himself down in the arm-chair--the very arm-chair in
which I was seated.
As he sat there, tapping the hearth-rug with the toe of his thick
riding-boot and moving his lips now and then in answer to some
question from the young girl, I had time to examine his every feature.
Line by line they reproduced my own--nay, looking straight into his eyes
I could see through them into the soul of him and recognised that soul
for my own. Of all the passions there I knew that myself contained the
germs. Vices repressed in youth, tendencies to sin starved in my own
nature by lack of opportunity--these flourished in a rank growth.
I saw virtues, too, that I had once possessed but had lost by degrees in
my respectable journey through life--courage, generosity, tenderness of
heart. I was discovering these with envy, one by one, when he raised
his head higher and listened for a moment, with a hand on either arm of
the chair.
Pages:
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171