“Because I wasn’t going to. Half the pleasure of a feeling lies in being able to express it on the spur of the moment, and I let out mine. It would have been just the same if you had been the reverse person—ugly and old—I should have exclaimed about it in the same way.”
“How long is it since you have been so afflicted with strong feeling, then?”
“Oh, ever since I was big enough to know loveliness from deformity.”
“’Tis to be hoped your sense of the difference you speak of doesn’t stop at faces, but extends to morals as well.”
“I won’t speak of morals or religion—my own or anybody else’s. Though perhaps I should have been a very good Christian if you pretty women hadn’t made me an idolater.”
Bathsheba moved on to hide the irrepressible dimplings of merriment. Troy followed, whirling his crop.
“But—Miss Everdene—you do forgive me?”
“Hardly.”
“Why?”
“You say such things.”