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elf…denying plans。 And now it is deluged with a nectarous flood—the young germs swamped—delicious poison cankering them: now I see myself stretched on an ottoman in the drawing…room at Vale Hall at my bride Rosamond Oliver’s feet: she is talking to me with her sweet voice—gazing down on me with those eyes your skilful hand has copied so well—smiling at me with these coral lips。 She is mine—I am hers—this present life and passing world suffice to me。 Hush! say nothing—my heart is full of delight—my senses are entranced—let the time I marked pass in peace。”
I humoured him: the watch ticked on: he breathed fast and low: I stood silent。 Amidst this hush the quartet sped; he replaced the watch; laid the picture down; rose; and stood on the hearth。
“Now;” said he; “that little space was given to delirium and delusion。 I rested my temples on the breast of temptation; and put my neck voluntarily under her yoke of flowers。 I tasted her cup。 The pillow was burning: there is an asp in the garland: the wine has a bitter taste: her promises are hollow—her offers false: I see and know all this。”
I gazed at him in wonder。
“It is strange;” pursued he; “that while I love Rosamond Oliver so wildly—with all the intensity; indeed; of a first passion; the object of which is exquisitely beautiful; graceful; fascinating—I experience at the same time a calm; unwarped consciousness that she would not make me a good wife; that she is not the partner suited to me; that I sho
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