'
'It's all I can say.'
'Then you mean that you would sacrifice yourself out of--what?
Out of pity for me, let us say.'
'Do you wish to see Willie?' asked Amy, instead of replying.
'No. It is you I have come to see. The child is nothing to me,
compared with you. It is you, who loved me, who became my wife--
you only I care about. Tell me you will try to be as you used to
be. Give me only that hope, Amy; I will ask nothing except that,
now.'
'I can't say anything except that I will come to Croydon if you
wish it.'
'And reproach me always because you have to live in such a place,
away from your friends, without a hope of the social success
which was your dearest ambition?'
Her practical denial that she loved him wrung this taunt from his
anguished heart. He repented the words as soon as they were
spoken.
'What is the good?' exclaimed Amy in irritation, rising and
moving away from him. 'How can I pretend that I look forward to
such a life with any hope?'
He stood in mute misery, inwardly cursing himself and his fate.
'I have said I will come,' she continued, her voice shaken with
nervous tension.
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