Почуття та чутливість

Chapter XXIX

           Itisareasonableandlaudablepridewhichresistssuchmalevolence."

           "No,no,"criedMarianne,"miserysuchasminehasnopride.IcarenotwhoknowsthatIamwretched.Thetriumphofseeingmesomaybeopentoalltheworld.Elinor,Elinor,theywhosufferlittlemaybeproudandindependentastheylike—mayresistinsult,orreturnmortification—butIcannot.Imustfeel—Imustbewretched—andtheyarewelcometoenjoytheconsciousnessofitthatcan."

           "Butformymother’ssakeandmine—"

           "Iwoulddomorethanformyown.ButtoappearhappywhenIamsomiserable—Oh!whocanrequireit?"

           Againtheywerebothsilent.Elinorwasemployedinwalkingthoughtfullyfromthefiretothewindow,fromthewindowtothefire,withoutknowingthatshereceivedwarmthfromone,ordiscerningobjectsthroughtheother;andMarianne,seatedatthefootofthebed,withherheadleaningagainstoneofitsposts,againtookupWilloughby’sletter,and,aftershudderingovereverysentence,exclaimed—

           "Itistoomuch!Oh,Willoughby,Willoughby,couldthisbeyours!Cruel,cruel—nothingcanacquityou.Elinor,nothingcan.Whateverhemighthaveheardagainstme—oughthenottohavesuspendedhisbelief?oughthenottohavetoldmeofit,tohavegivenmethepowerofclearingmyself?’Thelockofhair,(repeatingitfromtheletter,)whichyousoobliginglybestowedonme’—Thatisunpardonable.Willoughby,wherewasyourheartwhenyouwrotethosewords?Oh,barbarouslyinsolent!—Elinor,canhebejustified?"

           "No,Marianne,innopossibleway

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