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Page 55
"Hildegarde, this is your scheme," shrugging. "Tell them all you know;
break me, ruin me. Here is a fair opportunity for revenge."
"God forbid!" she cried with a shiver. "Were you guilty of all crimes,
I could only remember that once I loved you."
"You shame me," he replied frankly, but with infinite relief. "You
have outdone me in magnanimity. Will you forgive me?"
"Oh, yes. Forgiveness is one of the few things you men can not rob us
of." She spoke without bitterness, but her eyes were dim and her lips
dropped. "What shall we do? They must not know that we have met."
"Cathewe knows," moodily.
"I had forgotten!"
"I leave all in your hands. Do what you will. If you break me--and
God knows well that you can do it--it would be only an act of justice.
I have been a damned scoundrel; I am man enough to admit of that."
She saw his face more clearly now. Time had marked it. There were new
lines at the corners of his eyes and the cheek-bones were more
prominent. Perhaps he had suffered too. "You will always have the
courage to do," she said, "right or wrong in a great manner."
"Am I wrong to seek--"
"Hush! I know. It is what you must thrust aside or break to reach it,
Karl. The thing itself is not wrong, but you will go about it wrongly.
You can not help that."
He did not reply. Perhaps she was right. Indeed, was she not herself
an example of it? If there was one thing in his complex career that he
regretted more than another it was the deception of this woman. He did
not possess the usual vanity of the sex; there was nothing here to be
proud of; his dream of conquest was not over the kingdom of women.
"Some one is coming," he said, listening.
"Leave it all to me."
"Ah! . . ." with a hand toward her.
"Do not say it. I understand the thought. If only you loved me, you
would say!" the iron in her voice unmistakable.
He let his hand fall. He was sorry.
Presently the others made their entrance upon the scene, a singular
anticlimax. The admiral rang for the cocktails. Introductions
followed.
"Is it not strange?" said the singer to Laura. "I stole in here to
look at the trophies, when I discovered Mr. Breitmann whom I once knew
in Munich."
"Mr. Cathewe," said the young hostess, "this is Mr. Breitmann, who is
aiding father in the compilation of his book."
"Mr. Breitmann and I have met before," said Cathewe soberly.
The two men bowed. Cathewe never gave his hand to any but his
intimates. But Laura, who was not aware of this ancient reserve,
thought that both of them showed a lack of warmth. And Fitzgerald, who
was watching all comers now, was sure that the past of his friend and
Breitmann interlaced in some way.
"So, young man," said Mrs. Coldfield, a handsome motherly woman, "you
have had the impudence to let five years pass without darkening my
doors. What excuse have you?"
"I'm guilty of anything you say," Fitzgerald answered humbly. "What
shall be my punishment?"
"You shall take Miss Laura in and I shall sit at your left."
"For my sins it shall be as you say. But, really, I have been so
little in New York," he added.
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