"Don't speak to me of my
wife. I have no wife."
"Ah, poor girl!" said Angela, springing up from the sofa.
"I am perfectly serious," Gordon went on, addressing himself again to
her. "No, after all, I am not crazy; I see only too clearly--I see what
should be; when people see that, you call them crazy. Bernard has no
right--he must give you up. If you really care for him, you should help
him. He is in a very false position; you should n't wish to see him
in such a position. I can't explain to you--if it were even for my own
sake. But Bernard must have told you; it is not possible that he has not
told you?"
"I have told Angela everything, Gordon," said Bernard.
"I don't know what you mean by your having done me a wrong!" the girl
exclaimed.
"If he has told you, then--I may say it! In listening to him, in
believing him."
"But you did n't believe me," Bernard exclaimed, "since you immediately
went and offered yourself to Miss Vivian!"
"I believed you all the same! When did I ever not believe you?"
"The last words I ever heard from Mr. Wright were words of the deepest
kindness," said Angela.
She spoke with such a serious, tender grace, that Gordon seemed stirred
to his depths again.
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