I don’t want anything that belongs to you.
Thank God, I have money enough of my own to live on!
I hate you—I despise you—I never want to see you any more. Oh—” And, trying to think of something more, but failing, she dashed swiftly down the hall and down the stairs, while he stood for just one moment overwhelmed. Then he hurried after.
“Aileen!” he called.
“Aileen, come back here!
Don’t go, Aileen!”
But she only hurried faster; she opened and closed the door, and actually ran out in the dark, her eyes wet, her heart bursting.
So this was the end of that youthful dream that had begun so beautifully.
She was no better than the others—just one of his mistresses.
To have her past thrown up to her as a defense for the others!
To be told that she was no better than they!
This was the last straw.
She choked and sobbed as she walked, vowing never to return, never to see him any more. But as she did so Cowperwood came running after, determined for once, as lawless as he was, that this should not be the end of it all.
She had loved him, he reflected. She had laid every gift of passion and affection on the altar of her love.
It wasn’t fair, really.
She must be made to stay.
He caught up at last, reaching her under the dark of the November trees.
“Aileen,” he said, laying hold of her and putting his arms around her waist. “Aileen, dearest, this is plain madness.
It is insanity.
You’re not in your right mind.
Don’t go!
Don’t leave me!
I love you!
Don’t you know I do? Can’t you really see that?
Don’t run away like this, and don’t cry.
I do love you, and you know it. I always shall.
Come back now.
Kiss me.
I’ll do better.
Really I will.
Give me another chance. Wait and see.
Come now—won’t you?
That’s my girl, my Aileen. Do come.
Please!”
She pulled on, but he held her, smoothing her arms, her neck, her face.
“Aileen!” he entreated.
She tugged so that he was finally compelled to work her about into his arms; then, sobbing, she stood there agonized but happy once more, in a way.
“But I don’t want to,” she protested.
“You don’t love me any more.
Let me go.”
But he kept hold of her, urging, and finally she said, her head upon his shoulder as of old,
“Don’t make me come back to-night.
I don’t want to.
I can’t.
Let me go down-town. I’ll come back later, maybe.”
“Then I’ll go with you,” he said, endearingly.
“It isn’t right.
There are a lot of things I should be doing to stop this scandal, but I’ll go.”
And together they sought a street-car.
Chapter XX. “Man and Superman”