189
Without a word or sign—too light to stir
The balance of his careless memory,
Too light to shake the poising of his mind.
I, who have known to stand within his soul
And see myself in beauty mirrored there.
I who have known—Oh! turn my living brain
To chaos, blast my very power to think
So only I am kept from thoughts like these—
And yet—and yet———
The balance of his careless memory,
Too light to shake the poising of his mind.
I, who have known to stand within his soul
And see myself in beauty mirrored there.
I who have known—Oh! turn my living brain
To chaos, blast my very power to think
So only I am kept from thoughts like these—
And yet—and yet———
[Enter, hurriedly, Mabel Frere. Looks round, nods
shortly to Hortense. Goes into adjoining room, returns,
throws herself into a chair, grasping her temples with
both hands.]
shortly to Hortense. Goes into adjoining room, returns,
throws herself into a chair, grasping her temples with
both hands.]
Nurse Frere—
"Oh Heavens! this is awful! simply awful,
What shall I do? Where is she? Idiot! Fool!
To break her word at such a time! My head!
Whatever shall I do?
What shall I do? Where is she? Idiot! Fool!
To break her word at such a time! My head!
Whatever shall I do?
[Goes to telephone, rings up, then drops receiver and
walks distractedly about.]
walks distractedly about.]
[To Hortense, who has resumed her writing.]
