Page:Magdalen by J S Machar.pdf/81

 to be somehow changed, in some way smaller, more trifling, and empty. She thought of his room, those photographs of women, and the pictures on the wall—and something urged her to watch every word and smile and motion of his. She felt a strange rustiness growing in her soul, and effacing his picture which was imprinted somewhere in its depth.

Jiří again saw himself in a very peculiar situation: he had sobered down from the enthusiasm of the night before, and that girl was a stranger to him in his aunt’s house, at that table, and in that gown. There was no longer that penetrating perfume of orgies, and this was not the large parlor in that house. What would happen next? It occurred to him that he really had had no intention beforehand of doing what he later did,—what was it that had impelled him to take her away and bring her here? It was stupid and ridiculous! It was as though he had carelessly stepped upon the edge of a steep and precipitous rock: one unwary