Вдалині від божевільного натовпу

XX. Perplexity—Grinding the Shears—A Quarrel

           

           WhateverGabrielfelt,hecoollyechoedherwords

           "Orwishingiteither."

           Awomanmaybetreatedwithabitternesswhichissweettoher,andwitharudenesswhichisnotoffensive.BathshebawouldhavesubmittedtoanindignantchastisementforherlevityhadGabrielprotestedthathewaslovingheratthesametime;theimpetuosityofpassionunrequitedisbearable,evenifitstingsandanathematizesthereisatriumphinthehumiliation,andatendernessinthestrife.Thiswaswhatshehadbeenexpecting,andwhatshehadnotgot.Tobelecturedbecausethelecturersawherinthecoldmorninglightofopen-shuttereddisillusionwasexasperating.Hehadnotfinished,either.Hecontinuedinamoreagitatedvoice:

           "Myopinionis(sinceyouaskit)thatyouaregreatlytoblameforplayingpranksuponamanlikeMr.Boldwood,merelyasapastime.Leadingonamanyoudon’tcareforisnotapraiseworthyaction.Andeven,MissEverdene,ifyouseriouslyinclinedtowardshim,youmighthavelethimfinditoutinsomewayoftrueloving-kindness,andnotbysendinghimavalentine’sletter."

           Bathshebalaiddowntheshears.

           "Icannotallowanymantotocriticisemyprivateconduct!"sheexclaimed."NorwillIforaminute.Soyou’llpleaseleavethefarmattheendoftheweek!"

           ItmayhavebeenapeculiarityatanyrateitwasafactthatwhenBathshebawasswayedbyanemotionofanearthlysortherlowerliptrembled:whenbyarefinedemotion,herupperorheavenwardone.Hernetherlipquiverednow.

           "Verywell,soIwill,"saidGabrielcalmly

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