Brutally, such is the weakness of the ordinary man, I
turned the handle to go out, but my sister then raised her head. The
sunlight caught her face, framed untidily in its auburn hair, and I saw
her wonderful expression with a start. Pity, tenderness, and sympathy
shone in it like a flame. It was undeniable. There shone through all her
features the imperishable love and yearning to sacrifice self for others
which I have seen in only one type of human being. It was the great
mother look.
"We must stay by Mabel and help her get it straight," she whispered,
making the decision for us both.
I murmured agreement. Abashed and half ashamed, I stole softly from the
room and went out into the grounds. And the first thing clearly realized
when alone was this: that the long scene between us was without definite
result. The exchange of confidence was really nothing but hints and
vague suggestion. We had decided to stay, but it was a negative decision
not to leave rather than a positive action. All our words and questions,
our guesses, inferences, explanations, our most subtle allusions and
insinuations, even the odious paintings themselves, were without
definite result. Nothing had happened.
Pages:
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73