Sacred and Profane Love

Publisher Marketing: Excerpt: ... in love with him. I refused him once, and then I married him. He was as mad for me as I had been for the other one. Yes, I married him, and we both imagined we were going to be happy.' 'And why haven't you been?' I asked. 'This is my shame, ' she said. 'I could not forget the other one. We soon found that out.' 'Did you talk about it, you-and Frank?' I put in, amazed. 'Oh no!' she said. 'It was never mentioned-never once during fifteen years. But he knew; and I knew that he knew. The other one was always between us-always, always, always! The other one was always in my heart. We did our best, both of us; but it was useless. The passion of my life was-it was invincible. I tried to love Frank. I could only like him. Fancy his position! And we were helpless. Because, you know, Frank and I are not the sort of people that go and make a scandal-at least, that was what I thought, ' she sighed. 'I know different now. Well, he died the day before yesterday.' 'Who?' 'Crettell. He had just been made a judge. He was the youngest judge on the bench-only forty-six.' 'Was that the man?' I exclaimed; for Crettell's character was well known in London. 'That was the man. Frank came in yesterday afternoon, and after he had glanced at the paper, he said: "By the way, Crettell's dead." I did not grasp it at first. He repeated: "Crettell-he's dead." I burst into tears. I couldn't help it. And, besides, I forgot. Frank asked me very roughly what I was crying for. You know, Frank has much changed these last few months. He is not as nice as he used to be. Excuse me talking like this, my dear. Something must be worrying him. Well, I said as well as I could while I was crying that the news was a shock to me. I tried to stop crying, but I couldn't. I sobbed. Frank threw down the paper and stamped on it, and he swore. He said: "I know you've always been in love with the brute, but you needn't make such a damn fuss about it." Oh, my dear, how can I tell you these... Contributor Bio:  Bennett, Arnold Enoch Arnold Bennett, the son of a solicitor, was born in Hanley, which is in the Potteries district of Staffordshire. He was initially employed by his father, a solicitor, but reacted against the work and aged twenty-one moved to London, initially to again work as a solicitor's clerk. However, he soon turned to writing popular serial fiction and editing a women's magazine. After publication of many articles and stories in serial form there came the publication of his first novel, 'A Man From the North' in 1898. This was received with critical acclaim. Thereafter, Bennett became a full time professional writer and soon moved to Paris where he became a man of cosmopolitan and discerning tastes. Later, his tastes and profligacy were to be criticised, but he was a man who appreciated the finer things in life, perhaps as a reaction to his austere upbringing and low wages when working for his father. Journalism, plays and novels, as well as the occasional non-fiction work, such as his still popular 'How To Live On Twenty-four hours Per Day', were all to feature in his subsequent career. During the First World War Arnold Bennett became Director of Propaganda for France at the Ministry of Information at the behest of Lord Beaverbrook, who experiences during the First World War were to later inspire Bennett to write a novel, ('Lord Raingo'), based on them. At the end of the war he was offered a knighthood, but refused it. Bennett's great reputation is built upon the success of his novels and short stories set in the Potteries, an area he recreated as the 'Five Towns'. 'Anna of the Five Towns' and 'The Old Wives' Tale' show the influence of Flaubert, Maupassant and Balzac as Bennett describes provincial life in great detail. In this, Arnold Bennett is an important link between the English novel and European realism. Many of his works were, and still are, regarded as masterpieces, but none more than 'The Old Wives' Tale' and 'Riceyman Steps', which were both highly acclaimed on both sides of the Atlantic. The popularity of his 'Clayhanger' series, along with that of the 'Five Towns', have not waned since his death from typhoid at his London home, after a visit to France, in 1931. 'Bennett writes magnificently of the little movements of the spirit in its daily routine' - Margaret Drabble 'In the Bennett novels - which at their finest stand up to anything Europe has put out - the artist towers above the man of ideas' - Elizabeth Bowen