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XXVI. Scene on the Verge of the Hay-Mead

           Itwouldhavebeenjustthesameifyouhadbeenthereverseperson—uglyandold—Ishouldhaveexclaimedaboutitinthesameway."

           "Howlongisitsinceyouhavebeensoafflictedwithstrongfeeling,then?"

           "Oh,eversinceIwasbigenoughtoknowlovelinessfromdeformity."

           "’Tistobehopedyoursenseofthedifferenceyouspeakofdoesn’tstopatfaces,butextendstomoralsaswell."

           "Iwon’tspeakofmoralsorreligion—myownoranybodyelse’s.ThoughperhapsIshouldhavebeenaverygoodChristianifyouprettywomenhadn’tmademeanidolater."

           Bathshebamovedontohidetheirrepressibledimplingsofmerriment.Troyfollowed,whirlinghiscrop.

           "But—MissEverdene—youdoforgiveme?"

           "Hardly."

           "Why?"

           "Yousaysuchthings."

           "Isaidyouwerebeautiful,andI’llsaysostill;for,byG——soyouare!ThemostbeautifuleverIsaw,ormayIfalldeadthisinstant!Why,uponmy——"

           "Don’t—don’t!Iwon’tlistentoyou—youaresoprofane!"shesaid,inarestlessstatebetweendistressathearinghimandapenchanttohearmore.

           "Iagainsayyouareamostfascinatingwoman.There’snothingremarkableinmysayingso,isthere?I’msurethefactisevidentenough.MissEverdene,myopinionmaybetooforciblyletouttopleaseyou,and,forthematterofthat,tooinsignificanttoconvinceyou,butsurelyitishonest,andwhycan’titbeexcused?"

           "Becauseit—itisn’tacorrectone,"shefemininelymurmured.

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