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120 THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL
consequences, a little sympathy with the man who stood
in danger of being betrayed, a little disgust with the
unclean pell-mell ; a little genuine respect for the woman
whom I could not bear to see degrading herself ; a little
pity with the daughter, a mere nothing of compassion with
the mother of my beloved, in case of a scandal ; and quite
in the background of my miserable heart a vague presenti-
ment of the difficulty I should find later on, if ever I
should wish to sever our connection.
"No," I said to myself, "all or nothing! She must
be mine alone, and for ever!
"
While I was thus musing, there came a gentle tapping
at my door, and almost simultaneously a lovely head
appeared in the opening, flooding my attic with sunshine,
and with its roguish smile drawing me away from my
papers into the arms of my beloved. After a hailstorm
of kisses on her lips, which were fresh with the cold
outside, I asked
—
" Well, what has he decided to do? "
" Nothing ! I haven’t told him yet !
"
" Then you are lost ! Flee, unhappy woman !
"
And keeping firm hold of her, I took off her close-
fitting fur coat, removed her beaded hat and drew her to
the fire. Then she found words.
"I hadn’t the courage. ... I wanted to see you once
again before the catastrophe, for God knows, he may
decide to divorce me. . .
."
I closed her lips with mine, pushed a little table to her
seat and brought from my cupboard a bottle of good wine
and two glasses. By the side of them I set a basket with
roses and two lighted candles, arranging everything in the
manner of an altar. For a footstool I gave her a priceless
old edition of Hans Sachs, bound in calf, furnished with
gold locks and ornamented with a portrait of Luther. I
bad borrowed the book from the Royal Library.
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