VOLUME I
16. CHAPTER XVI
(continued)
"And what shall I gain by that?" her friend asked with no sign of
wincing.
"You'll have obliged me greatly."
"And what will be my reward?"
"Do you need a reward for an act of generosity?"
"Yes, when it involves a great sacrifice."
"There's no generosity without some sacrifice. Men don't
understand such things. If you make the sacrifice you'll have all
my admiration."
"I don't care a cent for your admiration--not one straw, with
nothing to show for it. When will you marry me? That's the only
question."
"Never--if you go on making me feel only as I feel at present."
"What do I gain then by not trying to make you feel otherwise?"
"You'll gain quite as much as by worrying me to death!" Caspar
Goodwood bent his eyes again and gazed a while into the crown of
his hat. A deep flush overspread his face; she could see her
sharpness had at last penetrated. This immediately had a value
--classic, romantic, redeeming, what did she know? for her; "the
strong man in pain" was one of the categories of the human
appeal, little charm as he might exert in the given case. "Why do
you make me say such things to you?" she cried in a trembling
voice. "I only want to be gentle--to be thoroughly kind. It's not
delightful to me to feel people care for me and yet to have to
try and reason them out of it. I think others also ought to be
considerate; we have each to judge for ourselves. I know you're
considerate, as much as you can be; you've good reasons for what
you do. But I really don't want to marry, or to talk about it at
all now. I shall probably never do it--no, never. I've a perfect
right to feel that way, and it's no kindness to a woman to press
her so hard, to urge her against her will. If I give you pain I
can only say I'm very sorry. It's not my fault; I can't marry you
simply to please you. I won't say that I shall always remain your
friend, because when women say that, in these situations, it
passes, I believe, for a sort of mockery. But try me some day."
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