Мидлмарч

Chapter 81

           

           Rosamond,takenholdofbyanemotionstrongerthanherown—hurriedalonginanewmovementwhichgaveallthingssomenew,awful,undefinedaspect—couldfindnowords,butinvoluntarilysheputherlipstoDorothea’sforeheadwhichwasverynearher,andthenforaminutethetwowomenclaspedeachotherasiftheyhadbeeninashipwreck.

           "Youarethinkingwhatisnottrue,"saidRosamond,inaneagerhalf-whisper,whileshewasstillfeelingDorothea’sarmsroundher—urgedbyamysteriousnecessitytofreeherselffromsomethingthatoppressedherasifitwerebloodguiltiness.

           Theymovedapart,lookingateachother.

           "Whenyoucameinyesterday—itwasnotasyouthought,"saidRosamondinthesametone.

           TherewasamovementofsurprisedattentioninDorotheaSheexpectedavindicationofRosamondherself.

           "Hewastellingmehowhelovedanotherwoman,thatImightknowhecouldneverloveme,"saidRosamond,gettingmoreandmorehurriedasshewenton."AndnowIthinkhehatesmebecause—becauseyoumistookhimyesterday.Hesaysitisthroughmethatyouwillthinkillofhim—thinkthatheisafalseperson.Butitshallnotbethroughme.Hehasneverhadanyloveforme—Iknowhehasnot—hehasalwaysthoughtslightlyofme.Hesaidyesterdaythatnootherwomanexistedforhimbesideyou.Theblameofwhathappenedisentirelymine.Hesaidhecouldneverexplaintoyou—becauseofme.

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