"
Kitty started and flushed. She looked round uncertainly at Ashe.
"Ask her ladyship to come up," said Ashe, quietly.
The maid departed.
"Feed me if you want to, Kitty," said Ashe, still seated.
Kitty returned, her breath hurried, her step wavering. She looked
doubtfully at Ashe--then her eyes sparkled--as she understood. She
dropped on her knees beside him, kissing the sleeve of his coat, against
which her cheek was pressed--in a passion of repentance.
He bent towards her, touching her hair, murmuring over her. His mind
meanwhile was torn with feelings which, so to speak, observed each
other. This thing which had happened was horribly serious--important. It
might easily have wrecked two lives. Had he dealt with it as he
ought--made Kitty feel the gravity of it?
Then the optimist in him asked impatiently what was "the good of
exaggerating the damned business"? That fellow has got his lesson--could
be driven headlong out of his life and Kitty's henceforward. And how
could
he doubt the love shown in this clinging penitence, these soft
kisses? How would the Turk theory of marriage, please, have done any
better? Kitty had had her own wild way.
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