] They were of a queer, gunpowder-and-faggot sort--but they
were ambitions.
AGNES. [Starting up.] Oh--! [Putting her hands to her brows.] Oh--!
[Facing him.] Yes, yes! You're right! Once, long ago, I hoped that my
hour would be very different from this. Ambitions! I have seen myself,
standing, humbly-clad, looking down upon a dense, swaying crowd--a
scarlet flag for my background. I have seen the responsive look upon
thousands of white, eager, hungry faces, and I've heard the great
hoarse shout of welcome as I have seized my flag and hurried down
amongst the people--to be given a place among their leaders! I! With
the leaders, the leaders! Yes, that is what I once hoped would be my
hour! [Her voice sinking.] But this is my hour.
ST. OLPHERTS. Well, my dear, when it's over, you'll have the
satisfaction of counting the departing footsteps of a ruined man.
AGNES. Ruined--!
ST. OLPHERTS. Yes, there's great compensation in that--for women.
AGNES. [Sitting.] Why do you suggest he'll be ruined through me?
[Uneasily.] At any rate, he'd ended his old career before we met.
ST. OLPHERTS. Pardon me; it's not now too late for him to resume that
career. The threads are not quite broken yet.
AGNES. Oh, the scandal in London--
ST. OLPHERTS. Would be dispelled by this sham reconciliation with his
wife.
Pages:
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94