Out of the Past — page 151: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

148 Out of the Past. “Sweetheart, can you not trust me? I wish you would tell me what it is that consumes you. I leave you the picture of health. I return to find you pale and tired— dark circles about your eyes—drawn lines about this dear mouth—a lassitude to your very finger tips. Will you tell me?” “T would rather not. It will all disappear soon. If it should not go away—soon—I will tell you—only—prom- ise it will make no difference in your love.” He started ever so little; but she felt it. “Is it something you have done?” he asked. Her eyes and the way she drew apart from him answered for her. He grasped her hands to bow his head upon them. “Forgive me—forgive me. It would not matter what you had done or what you could do—I love you, dear heart. You believe me?” ‘There was along silence. A shaft of pain seemed to have struck to her heart. His in- voluntary movement had spoken more eloquently to her fears than his words. Ii ever his ideal of her should be shattered, he would love her only because and when she compelled him, and that to her was not love. How ter- rible pain from his hands could be she had never known until now. There were no tears that could flow with it; it filled her breast with suffocating pain. In great contrition Robert brought her a glass of wine ECORNICOOOKS. COM