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XXXI. Blame—Fury

           Iwishyourfeelingwasmorelikemine,ormyfeelingmorelikeyours!Oh,couldIbuthaveforeseenthetorturethattriflingtrickwasgoingtoleadmeinto,howIshouldhavecursedyou;butonlyhavingbeenabletoseeitsince,Icannotdothat,forIloveyoutoowell!Butitisweak,idledrivellingtogoonlikethis…Bathsheba,youarethefirstwomanofanyshadeornaturethatIhaveeverlookedattolove,anditisthehavingbeensonearclaimingyouformyownthatmakesthisdenialsohardtobear.Hownearlyyoupromisedme!ButIdon’tspeaknowtomoveyourheart,andmakeyougrievebecauseofmypain;itisnouse,that.Imustbearit;mypainwouldgetnolessbypainingyou."

           "ButIdopityyoudeeplyO,sodeeply!"sheearnestlysaid.

           "Donosuchthingdonosuchthing.Yourdearlove,Bathsheba,issuchavastthingbesideyourpity,thatthelossofyourpityaswellasyourloveisnogreatadditiontomysorrow,nordoesthegainofyourpitymakeitsensiblyless.Osweethowdearlyyouspoketomebehindthespear-bedatthewashing-pool,andinthebarnattheshearing,andthatdearestlasttimeintheeveningatyourhome!Whereareyourpleasantwordsallgoneyourearnesthopetobeabletoloveme?Whereisyourfirmconvictionthatyouwouldgettocareformeverymuch?Reallyforgotten?really?"

           Shecheckedemotion,lookedhimquietlyandclearlyintheface,andsaidinherlow,firmvoice,"Mr.Boldwood,Ipromisedyounothing.

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