"
It was impossible not to feel for her--it was impossible not to be
interested in her. Arnold's honest longing to help her expressed itself
a little too openly when he spoke next. "All I want, Miss Silvester, is
to be of some service to you, if I can," he said. "Is there any thing
I can do to make your position here more comfortable? You will stay at
this place, won't you? Geoffrey wishes it."
She shuddered, and looked away. "Yes! yes!" she answered, hurriedly.
"You will hear from Geoffrey," Arnold went on, "to-morrow or next day. I
know he means to write."
"For Heaven's sake, don't speak of him any more!" she cried out. "How do
you think I can look you in the face--" Her cheeks flushed deep, and her
eyes rested on him with a momentary firmness. "Mind this! I am his wife,
if promises can make me his wife! He has pledged his word to me by all
that is sacred!" She checked herself impatiently. "What am I saying?
What interest can _you_ have in this miserable state of things? Don't
let us talk of it! I have something else to say to you. Let us go back
to my troubles here. Did you see the landlady when you came in?"
"No. I only saw the waiter.
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