McLane warned me. No woman can keep her mouth shut.
She and other powerful women--even that damned old cut-throat, Mrs.
Abbott--are standing by Madeleine loyally, but they are all alert for
a denouement nevertheless. If you go, that will satisfy them.
Madeleine will be merely the heroine of an unhappy love-affair, and
although nothing will stop their damned clacking tongues for a time,
they will pity her and do their best to make her forget."
"I cannot go. It is impossible. You are asking too much. And, I
repeat, I'll never see her again. Mrs. McLane can be made to
understand the truth. I'll leave the hotel tomorrow."
"You love Madeleine, do you not?"
"Yes--I do."
"Then will you save her from ruin in the only way possible. It is
not only her reputation that I fear. You know yourself, I fancy. You
may avoid her, but you will hardly deny that if circumstances threw
you together, alone, temptation would be irresistible--the more so as
you would have ached for the mere sound of her voice every minute. I
know now what it means to love Madeleine."
Masters turned his back on Talbot and leaned his arms on the mantel-shelf.
He saw hideous pictures in the empty grate.
The doctor had not sat down. Not a muscle of his big strong body had
moved as he stood and pronounced what was worse than a sentence of
death on Langdon Masters.
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