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V. Perplexity among Honest People

           

           Assoonastheywerealone,andthedoorclosed,Thomasinsaid,turningupherpale,tearfulfacetohim,“Itiskillingme,this,Damon!IdidnotmeantopartfromyouinangeratAngleburythismorning;butIwasfrightenedandhardlyknewwhatIsaid.I’venotletAuntknowhowmuchIsufferedtoday;anditissohardtocommandmyfaceandvoice,andtosmileasifitwereaslightthingtome;butItrytodoso,thatshemaynotbestillmoreindignantwithyou.Iknowyoucouldnothelpit,dear,whateverAuntmaythink.”

           “Sheisveryunpleasant.”

           “Yes,”Thomasinmurmured,“andIsupposeIseemsonow....Damon,whatdoyoumeantodoaboutme?”

           “Doaboutyou?”

           “Yes.Thosewhodon’tlikeyouwhisperthingswhichatmomentsmakemedoubtyou.Wemeantomarry,Isuppose,don’twe?”

           “Ofcoursewedo.WehaveonlytogotoBudmouthonMonday,andwemarryatonce.”

           “Thendoletusgo!—ODamon,whatyoumakemesay!”Shehidherfaceinherhandkerchief.“HereamIaskingyoutomarryme,whenbyrightsyououghttobeonyourkneesimploringme,yourcruelmistress,nottorefuseyou,andsayingitwouldbreakyourheartifIdid.Iusedtothinkitwouldbeprettyandsweetlikethat;buthowdifferent!”

           “Yes,reallifeisneveratalllikethat.”

           “ButIdon’tcarepersonallyifitnevertakesplace,”sheaddedwithalittledignity;“no,Icanlivewithoutyou.ItisAuntIthinkof.Sheissoproud,andthinkssomuchofherfamilyrespectability,thatshewillbecutdownwithmortificationifthisstoryshouldgetabroadbefore—itisdone.

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