He told her in a faltering voice.
She received it very quietly, even with a little, queer, twisting
laugh.
"I thought he wouldn't. Was Lady Tranmore there?"
The Dean replied that Lady Tranmore had been there.
"Ah, then, of course there was no chance," said Kitty. "When one is as
good as that, one never forgives."
She looked up quickly. "Did William say he forgave me?"
The Dean hesitated.
"He said a great deal that was kind and generous."
A slight spasm passed over Kitty's face.
"I suppose he thought it ridiculous to talk of forgiving. So did
I--once."
She covered her eyes with her hands--removing them to say, impatiently:
"One can't go on being sorry every moment of the day. No, one can't! Why
are we made so? William would agree with me there."
"Dear Lady Kitty!" said the Dean, tenderly--"God forgives--and with Him
there is always hope, and fresh beginning."
Kitty shook her head.
"I don't know what that means," she said. "I wonder whether"--she looked
at him with a certain piteous and yet affectionate malice--"if you'd
been as deep as I, whether
you'd know."
The Dean flushed.
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