Fenshawe fully into
his confidence, events might have shaped themselves quite differently.
But it is too late to talk of what might have been. You are more
concerned with the future than with the past. Last night, while you
were looking into the wonderland of the years to come, I was reviewing
lost opportunities. Therefore, I come to you this morning somewhat
chastened in spirit. May I talk without reserve?"
"Please, do," cried Irene, drawing her chair closer. In the sharp
clarity of sunrise she saw that Mrs. Haxton's beautiful face was drawn
and haggard. She was beginning to probe unsuspected depths in this
woman's temperament. She understood something of the intense
disappointment which the failure of the expedition must evoke in one to
whom wealth and all that it yields constituted the breath of life. And
then, she was in love, which predisposes its votaries towards charity.
Mrs. Haxton sighed. A consummate actress, for once her art was
supplemented by real feeling.
"Ah," she murmured, her eyes filling with tears, "I find your pity hard
to bear.
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