for their temporary suppression. Besides, Jane'-
she paused.
'Well, Helen?' said I, putting my hand into hers: she chafed my
fingers gently to warm them, and went on-
'If all the world hated you, and believed you wicked, while your
own conscience approved you, and absolved you from guilt, you would
not be without friends.'
'No; I know I should think well of myself; but that is not
oil paintings
enough: if others don't love me I would rather die than live- I cannot
bear to be solitary and hated, Helen. Look here; to gain some real
affection from you, or Miss Temple, or any other whom I truly love,
I would willingly submit to have the bone of my arm broken, or to
let a bull toss me, or to stand behind a kicking horse, and let it
dash its hoof at my chest-'
'Hush, Jane! you think too much of the love of human beings; you
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment