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"It is too late," says Lady Rodney, in a stifled tone. "I have said so many things about you, that—that——" "This day week, then," he says, having heard, and taken to heart the wisdom of, the old maxim about striking while the iron is hot. "Good-by, my—my beloved—cousin," he says, in a choked voice. I think the last word is an afterthought. He is tearing himself from all he holds most sacred upon earth, and the strain is terrible. He moves resolutely a a few yards away from her, as though determined to put space between him and her; yet then he pauses, and, as though powerless to withdraw from her presence, returns again, and, flinging himself on his knees before her, presses a fold of her gown to his lips with passionate despair..
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Conrad
"And you heard them? Nolly, explain yourself," says his sister, severely. "I don't care to hear about the contents of your wardrobe," interrupts Lady Rodney, with a slight but unkind shrug. "I am glad, at least, you were not seen in that objectionable headdress you so often affect." "And a profusion of gold, too," says Lady Rodney, with a sigh. Her face is hidden; it is lying on her arms, and they are cast, in the utter recklessness and abandonment of her grief, across the feet of him who, only yesterday, had been her "man,"—her pride and her delight..
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