t she had yielded to him the
freedom she so cherished as her inalienable right. She had given him her
freedom. It was in his power. For her real freedom was her innocence and
her desire to do right. It was not that she wanted to defy, so much as
that she could bear no shackles, and that she had no respect for the
belief that things should be done only because they were always done,
and for no other reason but that of tradition. And she feared nothing
but her own merciless judgment.

It was not now that she dreaded Emmy's powerlessness to forgive her, or
the opinion of anybody else in the world. It was that she could not
forgive herself. Those who are strong enough to live alone in the world,
so long as they are young and vigorous, have this rare faculty of
self-judgment. It is only when they are exhausted that they turn
elsewhere for judgment and pardon.

Jenny sat once again upon the bed.

"Oh Keith, my dearest...." she began. "My Keith...." Her thoughts flew
swiftly to the yacht, to Keith. With unforgettable pain she heard his
voice ringing in her ears, saw his clear eyes, as honest as the day,
looking straight into her own. Pain mingled with love and pride; and
battled there within her heart, making a fine tumult of sensation; and
Jenny felt herself smiling in the darkness at such a conflict. She even
began very softly to laugh. But as if the sound checked her and awoke
the secret sadness that the tumultuous sensations were trying to hide,
her courage suddenly gave way.

"Keith!" she gently called, her voice barely audible. Only silence was
there. Keith was far away--unreachable. Jenny pressed her hands to her
lips, that were trembling uncontrollably. She rose, struggling for
composure, struggling to get back to the old way of looking at
everything. It seemed imperative that she should do so. In a forlorn,
quivering voice she ventured:

"What a life! Golly, what a life!"

But the effort to pretend that she could still make fun of the events of
the evening was too great for Jenny. She threw herself upon the bed,
burying her face in the pillow.

"Keith ... oh Keith!..."

THE END

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Nocturne, by Frank Swinnerton

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