You were always ready to forgive, dear. Can I ever forget that
evening when I spoke like a brute, and you came afterwards and
addressed me as if the wrong had been on your side? It burns in
my memory. It wasn't I who spoke; it was the demon of failure, of
humiliation. My enemies sit in triumph, and scorn at me; the
thought of it is infuriating. Have I deserved this? Am I the
inferior of--of those men who have succeeded and now try to
trample on me? No! I am not! I have a better brain and a better
heart!'
Listening to this strange outpouring, Marian more than forgave
the hypocrisy of the last day or two. Nay, could it be called
hypocrisy? It was only his better self declared at the impulse of
a passionate hope.
'Why should you think so much of these troubles, father? Is it
such a great matter that narrow-minded people triumph over you?'
'Narrow-minded?' He clutched at the word. 'You admit they are
that?'
'I feel very sure that Mr Fadge is.'
'Then you are not on his side against me?'
'How could you suppose such a thing?'
'Well, well; we won't talk of that.
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