Daphne du Maurier - Hungry Hill by Hungry Hill html

Author:Hungry Hill html
Language: eng
Format: epub

And suddenly he was aware, fully and unmistakably, of the great gulf between them, which because of his years of guilt, and vice, and self-indulgence could never be bridged. He saw the gentle pattern of her life, calm, and quiet, and untroubled, believing in God because she was naturally good, naturally free from temptation and trial. She told him, with simplicity, that one day he might marry, not knowing that the only woman he would ever want as a wife would be herself, the only children he could ever bear to hold the children she might have given him. Would he ask God to help him? Yes, if Katherine had taught him how to pray, if Katherine had knelt beside him every night, if Katherine had been the mistress of Clonmere, his wife, his loved one, then indeed there would be peace in his house, and peace in his heart too, and godliness, and joy. Should he tell her? he wondered. Should he risk everything and confess his love, his misery, his shame @?

"Katherine," he said slowly, and came towards her, his hands outstretched, his eyes beseeching, and he saw the sudden understanding in her eyes, the blinding flash of intuition, as she turned white and leant against the wall.

"Why, Johnnie," she said in wonder, "why, Johnnie... @.@? And then there was a sudden footstep beneath the window, the crunch of gravel, and the sound of Henry's voice, gay and confident, calling to his wife. She turned, and Went out of the library, leaving him alone. He stood there staring at the place where she had been.

Johnnie sat in the cabin of the Princess Victoria, in Slane harbour, waiting for the steamer to weigh anchor. His manservant had stowed away his trunks and baggage beneath the berth, and had taken himself off to his own quarters. The vessel rocked slightly, and now and again, through the open port-hole, came the mournful hooting from another ship progressing down the harbour. From the deck above came the tramp of feet, and an occasional whistle.

Through the darkness glimmered the lights of Slane.

There was a draught coming from the port-hole, and Johnnie's ulster, hanging on the door, swayed back-Wards and forwards. His light portmanteau, placed on a chair by his servant, slid gently to the cabin floor. The label upon it stared up at the owner. "Captain Brodrick. Destination London." And then what? Johnnie shrugged his shoulders. London and beyond... @.

He had only a hazy recollection of the past few weeks, and an imperfect memory as to how he had got himself upon the Princess Victoria at all. He had written dozens of letters. That was the chief thing that stood out in his mind. He had sat down to his grandfather's desk in the library at Clonmere and written letters to everyone who knew him, letters asking forgiveness of his relatives and friends. Why had he done so @? He did not know. He could not remember.

But that the letters had been written

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.