Fiction > Book editions > London, 1886 - Prince Otto

124 PRINCE OTTO
my own infirmities ; but I put my heart in the
building, and it still lies among the ruins.'
' How very poetical ! ' she said with a little
choking laugh, unknown relentings, unfamiliar
softnesses, moving within her. ' What would
you be at ? ' she added, hardening her voice.
' I would be at this,' he answered ; ' and
hard it is to say. I would be at this : — Seraph ina,
I am your husband after all, and a poor fool
that loves you. Understand,' he cried almost
fierce]y, ' I am no suppliant husband ; what
your love refuses I would scorn to receive from
your pity. I do not ask, I would not take it.
And for jealousy, what ground have I ? A dog-
in-the-manger jealousy is a thing the dogs may
laugh at. But at least, in the world's eye, I am
still your husband ; and I ask you if you treat
me fairly ? I keep to myself, I leave you free,
I have given you in everything your will.
What do you in return ? I find, Seraphina,
that you have been too thoughtless. But be-
tween persons such as we, in our conspicuous
station, particular care and a particular courtesy
are owing. Scandal is perhaps not easy to
avoid ; but it is hard to bear.'
' Scandal ! ' she cried, with a deep breath.
'Scandal! It is for this you have been driving F
4 1 have tried to tell you how I feel,' he
replied. ( I have told you that I love you — love