Middlemarch

(Ron) #1

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bull, I know, has a very decent one to let at thirty pounds
a-year, and this is ninety.’ Lydgate uttered this speech in
the curt hammering way with which we usually try to nail
down a vague mind to imperative facts. Tears rolled silently
down Rosamond’s cheeks; she just pressed her handker-
chief against them, and stood looking al; the large vase on
the mantel-piece. It was a moment of more intense bitter-
ness than she had ever felt before. At last she said, without
hurry and with careful emphasis—
‘I never could have believed that you would like to act in
that way.’
‘Like it?’ burst out Lydgate, rising from his chair, thrust-
ing his hands in his pockets and stalking away from the
hearth; ‘it’s not a question of liking. Of course, I don’t like
it; it’s the only thing I can do.’ He wheeled round there, and
turned towards her.
‘I should have thought there were many other means than
that,’ said Rosamond. ‘Let us have a sale and leave Middle-
march altogether.’
‘To do what? What is the use of my leaving my work in
Middlemarch to go where I have none? We should be just as
penniless elsewhere as we are here,’ said Lydgate still more
angrily.
‘If we are to be in that position it will be entirely your
own doing, Tertius,’ said Rosamond, turning round to
speak with the fullest conviction. ‘You will not behave as
you ought to do to your own family. You offended Captain
Lydgate. Sir Godwin was very kind to me when we were at
Quallingham, and I am sure if you showed proper regard

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