| Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
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| Page | 1602 |
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| Chapter | -- |
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| Text |
or take off her hat or jacket until - crouching on the floor beside Nora's chair with her face hidden in the latter's lap - she had sobbed out her pitiful confession, the same things that she had unwittingly told to the same hearer so often before during the illness, the only fact that was new was the account of her wanderings that night. She cried so bitterly and looked so forlorn and heartbroken and ashamed as she faltered out her woeful story; so consumed with self-condemnation, making no excuse for herself except to repeat over and over again that she had never meant to do wrong, that Nora could not refrain from weeping also as she listened. It appeared that, unable to bear the reproach that Easton's presence seemed to imply, or to endure the burden of her secret any longer, and always haunted by the thought of the lake in the |
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