Phase the Sixth: The Convert
45. CHAPTER XLV (continued)
"Don't go on with it!" she cried passionately, as she
turned away from him to a stile by the wayside, on
which she bent herself. "I can't believe in such
sudden things! I feel indignant with you for talking
to me like this, when you know--when you know what harm
you've done me! You, and those like you, take your
fill of pleasure on earth by making the life of such as
me bitter and black with sorrow; and then it is a fine
thing, when you have had enough of that, to think of
securing your pleasure in heaven by becoming converted!
Out upon such--I don't believe in you--I hate it!"
"Tess," he insisted; "don't speak so! It came to me
like a jolly new idea! And you don't believe me? What
don't you believe?"
"Your conversion. Your scheme of religion."
"Why?"
She dropped her voice. "Because a better man than you
does not believe in such."
"What a woman's reason! Who is this better man?"
"I cannot tell you."
"Well," he declared, a resentment beneath his words
seeming ready to spring out at a moment's notice, "God
forbid that I should say I am a good man--and you know
I don't say any such thing. I am new to goodness,
truly; but newcomers see furthest sometimes."
"Yes," she replied sadly. "But I cannot believe in
your conversion to a new spirit. Such flashes as you
feel, Alec, I fear don't last!"
Thus speaking she turned from the stile over which she
had been leaning, and faced him; whereupon his eyes,
falling casually upon the familiar countenance and
form, remained contemplating her. The inferior man was
quiet in him now; but it was surely not extracted, nor
even entirely subdued.
"Don't look at me like that!" he said abruptly.
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