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‘I wish I was dead,’ she moaned.
Philip left her standing where she was. He could only
think at the moment of steadying himself. His knees were
shaking. He looked at her, and he groaned in despair.
‘What’s the matter?’ he said.
‘He’s left me—Emil.’
Philip’s heart bounded. He knew then that he loved her
as passionately as ever. He had never ceased to love her.
She was standing before him humble and unresisting. He
wished to take her in his arms and cover her tear-stained
face with kisses. Oh, how long the separation had been! He
did not know how he could have endured it.
‘You’d better sit down. Let me give you a drink.’
He drew the chair near the fire and she sat in it. He mixed
her whiskey and soda, and, sobbing still, she drank it. She
looked at him with great, mournful eyes. There were large
black lines under them. She was thinner and whiter than
when last he had seen her.
‘I wish I’d married you when you asked me,’ she said.
Philip did not know why the remark seemed to swell his
heart. He could not keep the distance from her which he
had forced upon himself. He put his hand on her shoulder.
‘I’m awfully sorry you’re in trouble.’
She leaned her head against his bosom and burst into
hysterical crying. Her hat was in the way and she took it
off. He had never dreamt that she was capable of crying like
that. He kissed her again and again. It seemed to ease her
a little.
‘You were always good to me, Philip,’ she said. ‘That’s

Of Human Bondage