" She attempted
confusedly to take her handkerchief from her apron pocket, and failed
to find it. The captain took it out for her. Her eyes softened, and she
drew her breath more freely as she received the handkerchief from him.
"You are a kinder man than I thought you were," she said; "I am sorry I
spoke so passionately to you just now--I am very, very sorry." The tears
stole into her eyes, and she offered him her hand with the native grace
and gentleness of happier days. "Be friends with me again," she said,
pleadingly. "I'm only a girl, Captain Wragge--I'm only a girl!"
He took her hand in silence, patted it for a moment, and then opened the
door for her to go back to her own room again. There was genuine regret
in his face as he showed her that trifling attention. He was a vagabond
and a cheat; he had lived a mean, shuffling, degraded life, but he was
human; and she had found her way to the lost sympathies in him which
not even the self-profanation of a swindler's existence could wholly
destroy. "Damn the breakfast!" he said, when the servant came in for her
orders. "Go to the inn directly, and say I want a carriage and pair at
the door in an hour's time.
Pages:
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727