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XXXI. Blame—Fury

           "Itwasonlywhispered,forsomethingunutterablymournfulnolessthandistressinginthisspectacleofamanshowinghimselftobesoentirelythevaneofapassionenervatedthefeminineinstinctforpunctilios.

           "Iambeyondmyselfaboutthis,andammad,"hesaid."Iamnostoicatalltobesupplicatinghere;butIdosupplicatetoyou.Iwishyouknewwhatisinmeofdevotiontoyou;butitisimpossible,that.Inbarehumanmercytoalonelyman,don’tthrowmeoffnow!"

           "Idon’tthrowyouoff—indeed,howcanI?Ineverhadyou."Inhernoon-clearsensethatshehadneverlovedhimsheforgotforamomentherthoughtlessangleonthatdayinFebruary.

           "Buttherewasatimewhenyouturnedtome,beforeIthoughtofyou!Idon’treproachyou,forevennowIfeelthattheignorantandcolddarknessthatIshouldhavelivedinifyouhadnotattractedmebythatletter—valentineyoucallit—wouldhavebeenworsethanmyknowledgeofyou,thoughithasbroughtthismisery.But,Isay,therewasatimewhenIknewnothingofyou,andcarednothingforyou,andyetyoudrewmeon.Andifyousayyougavemenoencouragement,Icannotbutcontradictyou."

           "Whatyoucallencouragementwasthechildishgameofanidleminute.Ihavebitterlyrepentedofit—ay,bitterly,andintears.Canyoustillgoonremindingme?"

           "Idon’taccuseyouofit—Ideploreit.Itookforearnestwhatyouinsistwasjest,andnowthisthatIpraytobejestyousayisawful,wretchedearnest.Ourmoodsmeetatwrongplaces.

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