Page:The Tragic Muse (London & New York, Macmillan & Co., 1890), Volume 2.djvu/177

Rh "That's what I felt, what I knew, what came over me and haunted me yesterday, so that I couldn't throw it off. It seemed to me that if I could see it with my eyes and have the perfect proof I should feel better, I should be quiet. And now I am after a struggle of some hours, I confess. I have seen; the whole thing's clear and I'm satisfied."

"I'm not, and to me the whole thing isn't clear. What exactly are you talking about?" Nick demanded.

"About what you were doing this morning. That's your innermost preference, that's your secret passion."

"A little go at something serious? Yes, it was almost serious," said Nick. "But it was an accident, this morning and yesterday: I got on better than I intended."

"I'm sure you have immense talent," Mrs. Dallow remarked, with a joylessness that was almost droll.

"No, no, I might have had. I've plucked it up: it's too late for it to flower. My dear Julia, I'm perfectly incompetent and perfectly resigned."

"Yes, you looked so this morning, when you hung over her. Oh, she'll bring back your talent!"

"She's an obliging and even an intelligent creature, and I've no doubt she would if she could. But I've received from you all the help that any woman is destined to give me. No one can do for me again what you have done."

"I shouldn't try it again; I acted in ignorance. Oh, I've thought it all out!" Julia declared. Then, with a strange face of anguish resting on his, she said: "Before it's too late—before it's too late!"

"Too late for what?"