"How
unfortunate I am--I have said something to make you angry again. Why did
you not walk with Mr. Davies? I should then have remained guiltless of
offence, and you would have had a more agreeable companion. You want to
quarrel with me; what shall we quarrel about? There are many things on
which we are diametrically opposed; let us start one."
It was too much, for though his words were nothing the tone in which
he spoke gave them a sting. Beatrice, already disturbed in mind by the
scene through which she had passed, her breast already throbbing with
a vague trouble of which she did not know the meaning, for once in her
life lost control of herself and grew hysterical. Her grey eyes filled
with tears, the corners of her sweet mouth dropped, and she looked very
much as though she were going to burst out weeping.
"It is most unkind of you," she said, with a half sob. "If you knew how
much I have to put up with, you would not speak to me like that. I know
that you do not believe me; very well, I will tell you the truth. Yes,
though I have no business to do it, and you have no right--none at
all--to make me do it, I will tell you the truth, because I cannot bear
that you should not believe me.
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