Oliver had turned very pale. And then
suddenly his brother caught himself together, and said: "I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to quarrel, but you've goaded me too much. I'm
grateful for what you have tried to do for me, and I'll pay you back
as soon as I can. But I can't go on with this game. I'll quit, and
you can disown me to your friends--tell them that I've run amuck,
and to forget they ever knew me. They'll hardly blame you for it--
they know you too well for that. And as for Alice, I'll talk it out
with her to-morrow, and let her decide for herself--if she wants to
be a Society queen, she can put herself in your hands, and I'll get
out of her way. On the other hand, if she approves of what I'm
doing, why we'll both quit, and you won't have to bother with either
of us."
That was the basis upon which they parted for the night; but like
most resolutions taken at white heat, it was not followed literally.
It was very hard for Montague to have to confront Alice with such a
choice; and as for Oliver, when he went home and thought it over, he
began to discover gleams of hope.
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