Confessions of a Well-Meaning Woman
I confess that I did not share his tenderness towards what is nothing but a life of premeditated sin. . . Yes, I know it’s legal, but Parliament can make a thing legal without making it right. The whole subject, however, was very distasteful, and I did not pursue it. That night I let fall a hint to Arthur, but he was not disposed to take any action.
“She’s a bigger fool than I took her for,” was all he would say. “She’s endangering her own future and Spenworth’s and playing into our hands if we chose to take advantage of our opportunity.”
Whether Arthur spoke to her or not, I cannot say; but I know that she received a very frank warning from her own solicitors. Spenworth, too, did us the honour to write and say: “For heaven’s sake keep that—” I forget the actual phrasing—“keep that man away from Katie, or he’ll do us in.” Spenworth was always noted for his elegance of diction. . . If a pawn could speak, I’m sure its feelings would be very much what mine were: pushed hither and thither in a game that I did not begin to understand. I had never asked Captain Laughton to the house; he invited himself, and by the same token I knew that it was no good telling him to stay away. My house was not my own, my soul was not my own. And I
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