The Man in Possession — page 225: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

220 | THE MAN IN POSSESSION, so sure—and yet... it was so hard, so almost impos- sible to assert her conviction. ‘‘Would you mind,” she said at last—‘‘ would you mind... lifting—that hair from your forehead— Tom Smith?” She had no need to ask more—she had no need to say what he knew she must say—what he felt would be condemnation and shame to hear. He tossed back the disguising hair with a sudden reckless desperation. He stood there before her, revealed and conscience- stricken, for the space of one awful humiliating moment. Then... he was at her feet—her hands clasped in his. ‘‘You are right, Kate, Tom Smith is--Tom Rivers. Be angry, indignant, scornful, what you please—I’ve only one excuse! Surely you are woman enough to hear it, and let it plead for me. ... Oh, Kate, I did it all because I loved you— because I was mad to see you—know you—be near you. I never knew it was to yourhouse I came that Christmas Eve. Ask Fletcher if you don’t believe me—only, when I found you in all that trouble—I— I could not go. Oh! don’t look like that. Am Iso utterly beneath you? I’ve been foolish—I’ve been rash... but if you knew how I love you. ... Oh, Kate, don’t turn away—you must listen—you shall /” He sprang to his feet and faced her. She had snatched her hands from his grasp and covered her face with them—her face from which that first burn- ing flush of shame had faded into livid whiteness, ‘‘Don't touch me—don’t speak to me!” she cried. ‘‘How dared you do it—how dared you-—” COMicloe (Sri C(O)