Like and Unlike, by the Author of 'Lady Audley's Secret'
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1887 edition. Excerpt: ... you can, Madge, for I am the kind of sinner whom no one pities. I am a murderer. He clasped her hand in both his own, and drew her nearer to him, looking up at her with despairing eyes, as she stood looking down upon him, speechless with horror. I killed my wife. Oh, God I had the confession of her falsehood in my hand, her declaration that she had ceased to love me, and that she was passionately in love with another man--that she was leaving me to be his mistress. A pleasant letter for a husband to read, Madge. The ink was wet upon the paper, and she stood there looking at me--beautiful--false to the core. I struck her to the ground. It was only one blow, but it killed her. Between the reading of that letter and her death there was but an interval of half a dozen seconds. The ink was wet still, and she was lying at my feet looking up at me--dead. It was horrible, gasped Madge, an awful, irreparable calamity--but not murder. You did not mean to kill her. I will not say as much as that. I think I wanted to kill her--as I would have killed her seducer had he been there--but I was sorry the instant she was dead. The agony of remorse began before that ink was dry. You should have confessed the truth; you should have braved all consequences. I should. I was a coward and a fool; a craven, to shrink from the consequences of my wrath. I had a right to be angry. I forgot how frail a thing she was. She fell like a lily--a tall white lily snapped in a storm. One moment--my passion had vented itself--and she was dead. And then he went on to describe that ghastly burial of the dead, in the silence of the summer night. He dwelt on every detail, ...show more
- 189 x 246 x 3mm | 118g
- 13 Sep 2013
- United States
- black & white illustrations