I maintain, Bevy, that the attraction you have for me is not only stronger but superior, I need you, Bevy.
We are two minds and temperaments that think and work alike.
That’s why I’m back here now, and want to stay here.
This other affair was less valuable. I felt it all the time.
When you stopped writing, I realized how much less I cared for Lorna.
There, that’s the sum of it.
Now what, Bevy?”
In the growing dusk he had drawn nearer and nearer.
Now he seized her, pressed his lips to hers, and held her tightly.
As he did so, she felt herself yielding, mentally and emotionally.
But at the same time she felt impelled to make plain her position.
“I do care for you, Frank, yes.
But this is only a sensual pull in your case.
When it is over . . . when it is over . . .”
Both subsided in each other’s arms, letting desire, emotion, blot out for the time being that frail little lamp, the human mind, and submerge for the moment that wholly unreasoning force, the human will.
Chapter 49
Later in her bedroom, on that first night, Cowperwood continued his argument as to the wisdom of going on together in their roles of ward and guardian.
“You see, Bevy,” he said, “the relationship is already established in the minds of Stane and others.”
“Are you trying to discover whether I am planning to leave you?” she queried.
“Well, naturally, I thought you might be considering it.
This fellow Stane certainly has everything to offer you.”
He was sitting on the edge of her bed.
The room was only slightly illumined by a moon that was shining against the drawn blinds.
Berenice was sitting up in bed, leaning against the pillows, smoking a cigarette.
“Not so much as you have,” she said, “if you were ever really interested enough.
But if you must know, I am not considering anything except the problem which you yourself have forced on me.
We entered into an arrangement and you disarranged it.
What do you expect me to do under the circumstances?
Give you every liberty and ask nothing for myself?”
“I don’t expect anything which is going to prove distasteful or harmful to you.” His tone was aggressive.
“I’m merely suggesting that if you’re going to become interested in Stane, we’ll have to figure out some way to continue this guardian-ward relationship until you are settled in your new state.
From one point of view,” he added, honestly enough, “I’d be glad to see you established as the wife of a man like Stane.
On the other hand, there’s the program we planned, and without you as a part of it, Bevy, I can tell you frankly that I’m not going to be very much interested.
I might go on, and I might not.
It will all depend on how I feel.
I know you think that because I went with Lorna Maris I could easily make worthwhile conditions for myself.
But I don’t see it that way.
She was a mere incident, something involved with the passions and not the mind, as I’ve told you.
If you had gone to New York with me, it never would have happened.
Since it has, the one thing I see to do is to make the best working arrangement I can with you.
And you will have to say what that is to be.”
He got up and went to look for a cigar.
Thus directly approached, Berenice found herself intensely troubled by all he had said.
For she cared for him intensely; his problems, his career, were almost more important to her than her own.
And yet opposed to them was her own life, her own future.
For once she reached the age of thirty-five or forty, the chances of his being present were slight.
She lay there silently thinking, while Cowperwood waited.
And in due course she answered, although not without extreme misgivings.
Yes, she would continue; of course she would continue, for the present, anyway.
For what could either he or she say in regard to his future movements or decisions?