Charlotte's Inheritance by M. E. (Mary Elizabeth) Braddon
page 48 of 542 (08%)
page 48 of 542 (08%)
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pace, as if with a settled purpose.
"Where can she be going?" Gustave asked himself; and an answer, vague, hideous, terrible, suggested itself to his mind. The idea that occurred to him was one that would scarcely have occurred to an Englishman under the same circumstances, but to a Frenchman it was a very familiar idea. It was dark now--the darkness that reigns between early sunset and late moonrise. As the lonely woman went farther along the dreary streets parallel with the quay, the dreadful suspicion grew stronger in Gustave's mind. From that instant he had but one thought; in that moment he put away from him for ever all sense of obligation to Madelon Frehlter; he shook off father, mother, sister, old associations, home ties, ambition, fortune--he lived alone for this woman, and the purpose of his life was to save her from despair and death. They emerged upon the quay at last. The long stretch of pavement was deserted. Ah, now she looked back--she looked on every side with wild unseeing eyes--and now there could be little doubt as to the purpose that brought her here. She crossed the road, and went upon the bridge, Gustave following close; in the next minute she was standing on the stone bench, a tremulous, fluttering figure, with arms stretched towards the water; in a breath she was clasped to Gustave's breast, clasped by arms that meant to hold her for ever. The shock of that surprise utterly unnerved the wretched creature. She shivered violently, and struggled to free herself from those strong arms. "Let me go!" she cried in English. "Let me go!" And then, finding herself powerless, she turned and looked at her captor. "M. Lenoble! O, why do |
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