Perhaps it is not proper, and
I ought not to allow it. Let us drop it. My husband
may be living, as I said."
"Of course, I'll drop the subject if you wish. But
propriety has nothing to do with reasons. I am a
middle-aged man, willing to protect you for the
remainder of our lives. On your side, at least, there
is no passion or blamable haste -- on mine, perhaps,
there is. But I can't help seeing that if you choose
from a feeling of pity, and, as you say, a wish to make
amends, to make a bargain with me for a far-ahead
time -- an agreement which will set all things right
and make me happy, late though it may be -- there is
no fault to be found with you as a woman. Hadn't
I the first place beside you? Haven't you been
almost mine once already? Surely you can say to
me as much as this, you will have me back again
should circumstances permit? Now, pray speak! O
Bathsheba, promise -- it is only a little promise -- that
if you marry again, you will marry me!"
His tone was so excited that she almost feared him
at this moment, even whilst she sympathized. It was
a simple physical fear -- the weak of the strong; there
no emotional aversion or inner repugnance.
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