' Then there
came upon him a glimmering of the truth. 'You do know.' And she
stood apart looking him full in the face.
'I do not know what you can have to tell me.'
'No;--no. It is not that I should tell you. But yet it is so,
Silverbridge, what did you say to me that morning when you came to
me that morning in the Square?'
'What did I say?'
'Was I not entitled to think that you--loved me?' To this he had
nothing to reply, but stood before her silent and frowning. 'Think
of it, Silverbridge. Was it not so? And because I did not at once
tell you all the truth, because I did not there say that my heart
was all yours, were you right to leave?'
'You only laughed at me.'
'No;--no; no; I never laughed at you. How could I laugh when you
were all the world to me? Ask Frank; he knew. Ask Miss Cass;--she
knew. And can you say that you did not know; you, you, yourself?
Can any girl suppose that such words as these are to mean nothing
when they have been spoken? You knew I loved you.'
'No;--no.'
'You must have known it. I will never believe but that you knew
it.
Pages:
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805