And, in speaking to her on that night, he wasn't, I am convinced,
committing a baseness. It was as if his passion for her hadn't
existed; as if the very words that he spoke, without knowing that
he spoke them, created the passion as they went along. Before he
spoke, there was nothing; afterwards, it was the integral fact of his
life. Well, I must get back to my story.
And my story was concerning itself with Florence--with Florence,
who heard those words from behind the tree. That of course is
only conjecture, but I think the conjecture is pretty well justified.
You have the fact that those two went out, that she followed them
almost immediately afterwards through the darkness and, a little
later, she came running back to the hotel with that pallid face and
the hand clutching her dress over her heart. It can't have been only
Bagshawe. Her face was contorted with agony before ever her
eyes fell upon me or upon him beside me. But I dare say Bagshawe
may have been the determining influence in her suicide. Leonora
says that she had that flask, apparently of nitrate of amyl, but
actually of prussic acid, for many years and that she was
determined to use it if ever I discovered the nature of her
relationship with that fellow Jimmy.
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