"But how can you put him out of your mind if he is worthy of your love?" I asked. "You did not place him therein, nor can you take him away."
She looked at me a long time, looked at me and read me; she did not frown, she smiled not, but searched me with her eyes until I felt that my motive lay bare under her gaze. "You would help Alf in his trouble," she said, "but you would throw a trouble at me."
How sadly she spoke those words, and my heart fell under them and lay at her feet in sorrow and in humiliation. I strove to beg for pardon, but I stammered and my words were almost meaningless.
"Oh, you have my forgiveness, if that is what you are trying to ask for. Now, please don't say anything more. I know you didn't mean to make me feel bad."
"I think I'd better cut my throat!" I replied, taking up a table knife.
She laughed at me. "How can a big man be so silly? Cut your throat, indeed. Why, what have you done to deserve it?"
"What have I done?" I cried, leaning over the table and making a fumble, as if I would take her hand—"what have I done? I have wantonly wounded the divinest creature——"
She was on her feet in an instant; she put her hands to her ears and shook her head at me. "No, you must not say that. Don't you see I can't hear what you say? So, what is the use of saying anything? Think you are a brute? No, I don't; but you must not talk like that. I can't hear you—I won't hear you. Oh, don't worry about Mr. Lundsford. He will kneel at my feet."