Scott heard that wrung confession, standing before her with a stillness
that gave him a look of sternness. He spoke as she ended, possibly
because he realized that she would not be able to endure the briefest
silence at that moment, possibly because he dreamed of filling up the gap
ere it widened to an irreparable breach.
"But, Dinah," he said, "don't you know he loves you?"
She flung her hands wide in a gesture of the most utter despair. "That's
just the very worst part of it," she said. "That's just why there is no
getting away."
"You don't want his love?" Scott questioned, his voice very low.
She shook her head in instant negation. "Oh no, no, no!"
He bent slightly towards her, looking into her face of quivering
agitation. "Dinah, are you sure it isn't all this pomp and circumstance
that is frightening you? Are you sure you have no love at all in your
heart for him?"
She did not shrink from his look. Though she thought his eyes were stern,
she met them with the courage of desperation. "I am quite--quite--sure,"
she told him brokenly. "I never loved him. I was dazzled, that's all.
But now--but now--the glamour is all gone. I would give anything--oh,
anything in the world--if only he would marry Rose de Vigne instead!"
Her voice failed and with it her strength. She covered her face and wept
hopelessly, tragically.
Scott stood motionless by her side.
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