BOOK THE SECOND: BIRDS OF A FEATHER
Chapter 15: The Whole Case So Far (continued)
'Excuse me. If she asks me, I will tell her,' replied the old man. 'I
will tell no one else.'
'I do not ask you,' said Lizzie, 'and I beg you to take me home. Mr
Wrayburn, I have had a bitter trial to-night, and I hope you will
not think me ungrateful, or mysterious, or changeable. I am
neither; I am wretched. Pray remember what I said to you. Pray,
pray, take care.'
'My dear Lizzie,' he returned, in a low voice, bending over her on
the other side; 'of what? Of whom?'
'Of any one you have lately seen and made angry.'
He snapped his fingers and laughed. 'Come,' said he, 'since no
better may be, Mr Aaron and I will divide this trust, and see you
home together. Mr Aaron on that side; I on this. If perfectly
agreeable to Mr Aaron, the escort will now proceed.'
He knew his power over her. He knew that she would not insist
upon his leaving her. He knew that, her fears for him being
aroused, she would be uneasy if he were out of her sight. For all
his seeming levity and carelessness, he knew whatever he chose to
know of the thoughts of her heart.
And going on at her side, so gaily, regardless of all that had been
urged against him; so superior in his sallies and self-possession to
the gloomy constraint of her suitor and the selfish petulance of her
brother; so faithful to her, as it seemed, when her own stock was
faithless; what an immense advantage, what an overpowering
influence, were his that night! Add to the rest, poor girl, that she
had heard him vilified for her sake, and that she had suffered for
his, and where the wonder that his occasional tones of serious
interest (setting off his carelessness, as if it were assumed to calm
her), that his lightest touch, his lightest look, his very presence
beside her in the dark common street, were like glimpses of an
enchanted world, which it was natural for jealousy and malice and
all meanness to be unable to bear the brightness of, and to gird at
as bad spirits might.
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