Weaker than a Woman — page 163: what you’re looking at

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

~ ‘ Me »” 5 : 4 sf lo , Winks a at rvbas ‘ —_ _ ; vow a “ ae wal 4 . » : j ~ ,” ware \, " - ' . - = at —- ve . } - & Shr t 154 WEAKER THAN A WOMAN. = “T cannot, indeed, Owen; but I will say anything you wish me to say.” | He turned away impatiently. “Tf you thought any set form of words, any pretty phrase would please me, you would use it—I am quite sure of that.” : With the brilliant sapphires in one of her hands, she looked half wistfully at him; the man who had it in his power to make such presents as this was worth any amount of patience. “I would say anything to please you, Owen,” she said. He looked into her fair face. “JT knew you would,” he returned, “but it has never oc- curred to you to throw your arms around my neck and kiss me, and—and say, ‘Thank you, my darling.’ ” She shrank from him with a little shudder, his dark face was so close to hers. “IT have noticed,” he said, “that you are always ready to thank me when I bring you any of the silly trifles women like so much—you are then most amiable, but never once, by Heaven, since we have been married have you come to me and kissed me of your own free will.” ‘T will do so now,” she said, and she placed the sapphires in their cases. | = “No, thank you,” he returned. ‘It would not be sponta- neous. You would do it because I asked you.” She was startled at the expression of his face, at the tone of his voice—startled, and just a little afraid. / “You do love me, Violet, do you not?” he asked. She had never thought about loving him; he was to her — a rich man who had wanted her to marry him, who had bribed her by his riches and his title, and for whom she had given up the man she really loved; but to love him— she had never thought of it; it had never entered into her calculations. He was to have her beauty, she was to have his money and his title. “Do you love me, Violet?” he demanded, angrily, and | before she had time to speak a sudden conviction darted through her mind that she did not love him, and never should—a certain terrible conviction that, although she was married to this man, she loved Felix Lonsdale still. She trembled as she answered : “Yes, you know I love you, Owen.” She knew the words were false, but she was too fright- ened to say anything else. “I know you ought to love me,” he said, savagely, “ but a ere, ® comicbooks.com > es a bie LAL SP _~ “ LA . Pat £3, tan te % al . 7 - — f ’ 73 fis » *