Page:The Painted Veil - Maugham - 1925.djvu/289

 “Nothing,” she repeated vehemently. “My heart sinks when I think how we’ve battened on you all our lives and have given you nothing in return. Not even a little affection. I’m afraid you’ve not had a very happy life. Won’t you let me try to make up a little for all I’ve failed to do in the past?”

He frowned a little. Her emotion embarrassed him.

“I don’t know what you mean. I’ve never had any complaint to make of you.”

“Oh, father, I’ve been through so much, I’ve been so unhappy. I’m not the Kitty I was when I went away. I’m terribly weak, but I don’t think I’m the filthy cad I was then. Won’t you give me a chance? I have nobody but you in the world now. Won’t you let me try to make you love me? Oh, father, I’m so lonely and so miserable; I want your love so badly.”

She buried her face in his lap and cried as though her heart were breaking.

“Oh, my Kitty, my little Kitty,” he murmured.

She looked up and put her arms round his neck.

“Oh, father, be kind to me. Let us be kind to one another.”

He kissed her, on the lips as a lover might, and his cheeks were wet with her tears.

“Of course you shall come with me.”

“Do you want me to? Do you want me to?”

“I’m so grateful to you.”