WALKED IN SILENCE SIDE BY SIDE
"I mustn't come much further," said Bowdon at last, "or I shan't get home to-night."
"Oh, come on a little way; it'll do you good," said Ashley.
So they went on a little way. And at last Bowdon spoke.
"She doesn't look a day older," he said.
"Oh, no. She won't look a day older for ever so long."
"And old Hazlewood's just the same, wrinkle and all."
"She won't smooth that away," said Ashley with a laugh.
Bowdon took his arm and they walked on together for a little way further. Then Bowdon stopped.
"I'm going home," he said, dropping Ashley's arm. "Good-night."
"Good-night," Ashley answered.
But for a moment Bowdon did not go. With a smile at once confidential and apologetic he put the question which was in his mind: "It's infernally impertinent of me, but, I say, Ashley, are you still in love with her?"
Ashley looked him full in the face for a moment, and then gave his answer. "No, I'm not, but I wish to God I was!" he said.
For in that love his life had done its uttermost; it would do no such good thing again. He had called Ora's time his holiday time. It was over. The rare quality of its pleasure he would taste no more. Bowdon nodded in understanding. "A wonderful creature!" he said, as he turned away.
A wonderful creature! Or, as Babba Flint had preferredto put it, "A good sight." Yes, that must be the way to look at her, the right way to look at her existence, the truth about it. Only when Ashley remembered that little gesture of dumb protest, the truth seemed rather hard—and hard not for himself alone. If she sacrificed others, if her nature were shaped to that, was she not a sacrifice herself—sacrificed that beautiful things might be set before the eyes and in the hearts of men? Let judgment then be gentle, and love unashamed.
PLYMOUTHWILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LIMITEDPRINTERS
Transcriber's noteMinor punctuation errors have been corrected.This text is otherwise as originally published.