14/40 And in so doing, he had been overwhelmingly conscious of the peculiar, personal fragrance, her garments had always exhaled--an experience in which rapture and anguish blended. God! how he had loved her! ... And yet, latterly, how he had got to take his supreme possession of her as a matter of course; had allowed the joy of it to be blunted by depression and irritability over sordid station worries. He remembered with piercing remorse how often he had neglected the trivial courtesies to which he knew she attached importance. How he had been prone to sullen fits of moodiness; had been rough, even brutal, as in that episode of the Blacks.... |