"Yes, yes! I am nothing in it—I am nothing in it. You only trifle with me. Heaven, what can I, Eustacia Vye, be made of to think so much of you!"
"Nonsense; do not be so passionate… Eustacia, how we roved among these bushes last year, when the hot days had got cool, and the shades of the hills kept us almost invisible in the hollows!"
She remained in moody silence till she said, "Yes; and how I used to laugh at you for daring to look up to me! But you have well made me suffer for that since."
"Yes, you served me cruelly enough until I thought I had found some one fairer than you. A blessed find for me, Eustacia."
"Do you still think you found somebody fairer?"
"Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. The scales are balanced so nicely that a feather would turn them."
"But don't you really care whether I meet you or whether I don't?" she said slowly.
"I care a little, but not enough to break my rest," replied the young man languidly. "No, all that's past. I find there are two flowers where I thought there was only one. Perhaps there are three, or four, or any number as good as the first… Mine is a curious fate. Who would have thought that all this could happen to me?"
She interrupted with a suppressed fire of which either love or anger seemed an equally possible issue, "Do you love me now?"
"Who can say?"