Титан

Behind the Arras

           Hewasreallynotmasterfulenoughmentally,andhehadwitnessedherdiscomfiture.Andwho,then?Oh,thelonglineofsillies,light-weights,rakes,ne’er-do-wells,who,combinedwithsober,prosperous,conventional,muddle-headedoofs,constitutedsociety.Hereandthere,atfarjumps,wasarealman,butwouldhebeinterestedinherifheknewthewholetruthabouther?

           "HaveyoubrokenwithMr.Braxmar?"askedhermother,curiously,nervously,hopefully,hopelessly.

           "Ihaven’tseenhimsince,"repliedBerenice,lyingconservatively."Idon’tknowwhetherIshallornot.Iwanttothink."Shearose."Butdon’tyoumind,mother.OnlyIwishwehadsomeotherwayoflivingbesidesbeingdependentonMr.Cowperwood."

           Shewalkedintoherboudoir,andbeforehermirrorbegantodressforadinnertowhichshehadbeeninvited.SoitwasCowperwood’smoneythathadbeensustainingthemallduringthelastfewyears;andshehadbeensoliberalwithhismeanssoproud,vain,boastful,superior.Andhehadonlyfixedherwiththoseinquiring,examiningeyes.Why?Butshedidnotneedtoaskherselfwhy.Sheknewnow.Whatagamehehadbeenplaying,andwhatasillyshehadbeennottoseeit.Didhermotherinanywaysuspect?Shedoubtedit.Thisqueer,paradoxical,impossibleworld!TheeyesofCowperwoodburnedatherasshethought.

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