"Oh no! I can't indeed--indeed!"
"You will!" said Mrs. Bathurst.
Her hand gripped the slender shoulder with cruel force. She bent,
bringing her harsh features close to her daughter's blanched face.
"Just you remember one thing!" she said, her voice low and menacing.
"You've never succeeded in defying me yet, and you won't do it now. I'll
conquer you--I'll break you--if it takes me all night to do it!"
Dinah recoiled before the unshackled fury that suddenly blazed in the
gipsy eyes that looked into hers. Sheer horror sprang into her own.
"Oh, but I can't--I can't!" she reiterated in an agony. "I don't love
him. He knows it. I ought to have found out before, but I didn't.
Mother--Mother--" piteously she began to plead--"you--you can't want to
make me marry a man I don't love? You--you would never--surely--have done
such a thing yourself!"
Mrs. Bathurst made a sharp gesture as if something had pierced her. She
shook the shoulder she grasped. "Love!" she said. "Oh, don't talk to me
of love! Do you imagine--have you ever imagined--that I married that
fox-hunting booby--for love?"
A great and terrible bitterness that was like the hunger of a famished
animal looked out of her eyes. Dinah gazed at her aghast. What new and
horrible revelation was this? She felt suddenly sick and giddy.
Her mother shook her again roughly, savagely. "None of that!" she said.
Pages:
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468