THIRD NARRATIVE
7. CHAPTER VII
(continued)
She was the first, this time, to break the silence.
"Well?" she said, "you have asked, and I have answered.
You have made me hope something from all this, because you hoped
something from it. What have you to say now?"
The tone in which she spoke warned me that my influence over her was a lost
influence once more.
"We were to look at what happened on my birthday night, together,"
she went an; "and we were then to understand each other. Have we done that?"
She waited pitilessly for my reply. In answering her I committed
a fatal error--I let the exasperating helplessness of my situation get
the better of my self-control. Rashly and uselessly, I reproached her
for the silence which had kept me until that moment in ignorance of the truth.
"If you had spoken when you ought to have spoken," I began;
"if you had done me the common justice to explain yourself----"
She broke in on me with a cry of fury. The few words I had said
seemed to have lashed her on the instant into a frenzy of rage.
"Explain myself!" she repeated. "Oh! is there another man
like this in the world? I spare him, when my heart is breaking;
I screen him when my own character is at stake; and HE--
of all human beings, HE--turns on me now, and tells me
that I ought to have explained myself! After believing
in him as I did, after loving him as I did, after thinking
of him by day, and dreaming of him by night--he wonders I
didn't charge him with his disgrace the first time we met:
"My heart's darling, you are a Thief! My hero whom I love
and honour, you have crept into my room under cover of the night,
and stolen my Diamond!" That is what I ought to have said.
You villain, you mean, mean, mean villain, I would have lost
fifty diamonds, rather than see your face lying to me, as I see it
lying now!"
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