I thank God that
she found him out in time, that she killed him, that you shielded
her, that you failed to carry out your devilish scheme, and that
your heart is very sore to-day."
"You do not despise me?"
"No. I am sorry for you."
Her eyes narrowed. "I don't want you to feel sorry for me."
"You don't understand. I am sorry for you because you have found
yourself out and must be despising yourself."
"You have guessed the truth. I despise myself. But what could be
expected of me?" she asked ironically. "As the Wrandalls would say,
'blood will tell.'"
"Nonsense! Don't talk like that! It is quite unworthy of you. In
spite of everything, Sara, you are wonderful. The very thing you
tried to do, the way you went about it, the way you surrender, makes
for greatness in you. If you had gone on with it and succeeded,
that fact alone would have put you in the class with the great,
strong, virile women of history. It--"
"With the Medicis, the Borgias and--" she began bitterly.
"Yes, with them. But they were great women, just the same. You
are greater, for you have more than they possessed: a conscience.
I wish I could tell you just what I feel. I haven't the words. I--"
"I only want you to tell me the truth. Do you despise me?"
"Again I say that I do not. I can only say that I regard you
with--yes, with AWE.
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