第84部分(第3/7 页)

wered；　“because　you　did　not　love　me；　now；　I　reply；　because　you　almost　hate　me。　If　I　were　to　marry　you；　you　would　kill　me。　You　are　killing　me　now。”

His　lips　and　cheeks　turned　white—quite　white。

“I　should　kill　you—I　am　killing　you？　Your　words　are　such　as　ought　not　to　be　used：　violent；　unfeminine；　and　untrue。　They　betray　an　unfortunate　state　of　mind：　they　merit　severe　reproof：　they　would　seem　inexcusable；　but　that　it　is　the　duty　of　man　to　forgive　his　fellow　even　until　seventy…and…seven　times。”

I　had　finished　the　business　now。　While　earnestly　wishing　to　erase　from　his　mind　the　trace　of　my　former　offence；　I　had　stamped　on　that　tenacious　surface　another　and　far　deeper　impression；　I　had　burnt　it　in。

“Now　you　will　indeed　hate　me；”　I　said。　“It　is　useless　to　attempt　to　conciliate　you：　I　see　I　have　made　an　eternal　enemy　of　you。”

A　fresh　wrong　did　these　words　inflict：　the　worse；　because　they　touched　on　the　truth。　That　bloodless　lip　quivered　to　a　temporary　spasm。　I　knew　the　steely　ire　I　had　whetted。　I　was　heart…wrung。

“You　utterly　misinterpret　my　words；”　I　said；　at　once　seizing　his　hand：　“I　have　no　intention　to　grieve　or　pain　you—indeed；　I　have　not。”

Most　bitterly　he　smiled—most　decidedly　he　withdrew　his　hand　from　mine。　“And　now　you　recall　your　promise；　and　will　not　go　to　India　at　all；　I　presume？”　said　he；　after　a　considerable　pause。

“Yes；　I　will；　as　your　assistant；”　I　answered。

A　very　long　silence　succeeded。　What　struggle　there　was　in　him　between　Nature　and　Grace　in　this　interval；　I　cannot　tell：　only　singular　gleams　scintillated　in　his　eyes；　and　strange　shadows　passed　over　his　face。　He　spoke　at　last。

“I　before　proved　to　you　the　absurdity　of　a　single　woman　of　your　age　proposing　to　acpany　abroad　a　single　man　of　min