Читать книгу A Son of Ishmael. A Novel онлайн

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“Just go on loving me, Nance, and I shall want nothing further,” he replied. “No one else loves me, and although I am a hard, dare-devil sort of chap, I hunger for love—the soft beautiful love of a good woman. You are a good woman, my angel, and you are mine; you love me and I love you; just bathe me in your love, sweetheart, and I ask for nothing further. A perfect wife I do not want—I do not look for a perfect wife, but I do want a wife whose whole heart is mine, who is mine absolutely.”

“And I am yours, absolutely,” she answered.

“I can be fiercely jealous,” he continued. “If I thought you gave any part of yourself to anybody or anything but me, I don’t know what I wouldn’t do. Even if you gave your love to a dead man, Nance, I should be jealous—and jealousy with me would be fierce—I am all fierce passion. The side I turn to you, my darling, is almost angel, for you make it so, but all the rest of me is demon; you must keep that little angel bit of me alive, and you will, if you love me with your whole complete entire heart.”