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t my husband; nor ever will be。 He does not love me: I do not love him。 He loves (as he can love; and that is not as you love) a beautiful young lady called Rosamond。 He wanted to marry me only because he thought I should make a suitable missionary’s wife; which she would not have done。 He is good and great; but severe; and; for me; cold as an iceberg。 He is not like you; sir: I am not happy at his side; nor near him; nor with him。 He has no indulgence for me—no fondness。 He sees nothing attractive in me; not even youth—only a few useful mental points。—Then I must leave you; sir; to go to him?”
I shuddered involuntarily; and clung instinctively closer to my blind but beloved master。 He smiled。
“What; Jane! Is this true? Is such really the state of matters between you and Rivers?”
“Absolutely; sir! Oh; you need not be jealous! I wanted to tease you a little to make you less sad: I thought anger would be better than grief。 But if you wish me to love you; could you but see how much I do love you; you would be proud and content。 All my heart is yours; sir: it belongs to you; and with you it would remain; were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence for ever。”
Again; as he kissed me; painful thoughts darkened his aspect。 “My scared vision! My crippled strength!” he murmured regretfully。
I caressed; in order to soothe him。 I knew of what he was thinking; and wanted to speak for him; but dared not。 As he turned aside his face a minute; I sa
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