She was so utterly amazed, so thunderstruck and stunned, that the light, and the sea, and the stems of trees, and the green woodland shadows, all went round her in dizzy circling mists.
“Why are you so surprised? You must have heard many men before now express the same wish as mine.”
“Oh! only for one reason.”
“That reason exists no longer. In putting away from you your father’s wealth, you at least acquire the certainty of being sought for yourself.”
“You speak in derision, or in compassion.”
“Derision? Who could dare deride you? Your worst enemy, if you have one, must admire you. As for compassion, if there be any in the desire I have ventured to express to you, it is for myself.”
She was still silent. She was so violently startled and shocked that a sensation of faintness came over her; her lips lost color, her sight was troubled.
“It is utterly impossible,” she said, after long silence, in a low, hoarse voice. “You cannot mean it. You must be out of your mind.”
“I always mean what I say. And I cannot see what there is to surprise you so greatly. True, you know me very little, and the few times I have seen you I have been rude to you.”
“I cannot believe you! It is wholly impossible.”