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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"The Descent of Man and Other Stories"

I fell on my knees and tried to lift her: by the way she
breathed I saw it was no common faint. But as I raised her head
there came quick steps on the stairs and across the hall: the door
was flung open, and there stood Mr. Brympton, in his
travelling-clothes, the snow dripping from him. He drew back with a
start as he saw me kneeling by my mistress.
"What the devil is this?" he shouted. He was less high-colored than
usual, and the red spot came out on his forehead.
"Mrs. Brympton has fainted, sir," said I.
He laughed unsteadily and pushed by me. "It's a pity she didn't
choose a more convenient moment. I'm sorry to disturb her, but--"
I raised myself up, aghast at the man's action.
"Sir," said I, "are you mad? What are you doing?"
"Going to meet a friend," said he, and seemed to make for the
dressing-room.
At that my heart turned over. I don't know what I thought or feared;
but I sprang up and caught him by the sleeve.
"Sir, sir," said I, "for pity's sake look at your wife!"
He shook me off furiously.
"It seems that's done for me," says he, and caught hold of the
dressing-room door.
At that moment I heard a slight noise inside. Slight as it was, he
heard it too, and tore the door open; but as he did so he dropped
back. On the threshold stood Emma Saxon. All was dark behind her,
but I saw her plainly, and so did he. He threw up his hands as if to
hide his face from her; and when I looked again she was gone.
He stood motionless, as if the strength had run out of him; and in
the stillness my mistress suddenly raised herself, and opening her
eyes fixed a look on him.


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