He told me so, and I promised that I wouldn't--
promised solemnly. I would not harm a hair of Richard's head, and
he so noble, so good, so helpless, with so few sources of
enjoyment; but oh, Victor, I did love Arthur best--did love him so
much," and in that wailing cry Edith's true sentiments spoke out.
"I did love him so much--I love him so much now," and she kept
whispering it to herself, while Victor sought in vain for some
word of comfort, but could find none. Once he said to her, "Wait,
and Nina may die," but Edith recoiled from him in horror.
"Never hint that Again," she almost screamed. "It's murder, foul
murder. I would not have Nina die for the whole world--beautiful,
loving Nina. I wouldn't have Arthur, if she did. I couldn't, for I
am Richard's wife. I wish I'd told him early June instead of
October. I'll tell him to-morrow and in four weeks more all the
dreadful uncertainty will be ended. I ought to love him, Victor,
he's done so much for me. I am that Swedish child he saved from
the river Rhine, periling life and limb, losing his sight for me.
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