"
Then suddenly, seeing that he was making no headway, he threw
off his studied calmness and broke out in an appeal of almost
equally studied violence.
"Mrs. Lee! Madeleine! I cannot live without you. The sound of
your voice--the touch of your hand--even the rustle of your
dress--are like wine to me. For God's sake, do not throw me over!"
He meant to crush opposition by force. More and more vehement
as he spoke he actually bent over and tried to seize her hand. She
drew it back as though he were a reptile. She was exasperated by
this obstinate disregard of her forbearance, this gross attempt to
bribe her with office, this flagrant abandonment of even a pretence
of public virtue; the mere thought of his touch on her person was
more repulsive than a loathsome disease. Bent upon teaching him
a lesson he would never forget, she spoke out abruptly, and with
evident signs of contempt in her voice and manner:
"Mr. Ratcliffe, I am not to be bought. No rank, no dignity, no
consideration, no conceivable expedient would induce me to
change my mind.
Let us have no more of this!"
Ratcliffe had already been more than once, during this
conversation, on the verge of losing his temper. Naturally
dictatorial and violent, only long training and severe experience
had taught him self-control, and when he gave way to passion his
bursts of fury were still tremendous. Mrs. Lee's evident personal
disgust, even more than her last sharp rebuke, passed the bounds of
his patience.
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