"
"Miss Mayhew," he said, bitterly and slowly, too, as if he were
carefully choosing his words, "you had a presentiment last Saturday
that some evil was about to happen. As far as I am concerned the
worst has happened. I have lost my self-respect. I have no right
to stand here in your presence. I have no right to be in this
place even. I once tossed away a little flower that had been sadly
marred, through no fault of its own, and as I did so I said in my
pride and self-complacency that its imperfection justified my act.
You understood me too well, and my accursed Phariseeism wounded
your very heart. You afterwards generously forgave my offence and
a worse one, but God is just and I am now punished in the severest
possible way. I perceive now that you do not understand me, or you
could not look and speak so kindly. I thought you had learned me
better, for you spoke words on the boat that pierced my very soul,
revealing me to myself, and later you passed me without a glance.
You were right in both instances. You are wrong now, and i shall
not take advantage of your present ignorance, which circumstances
will soon remove. I repeat it, Miss Mayhew, I have no right to be here
and speaking to you, and yet"--he made a passionate and despairing
gesture, and was about to turn hastily away, when Ida said,
earnestly, with her eyes fixed on his face, as was her instinctive
custom when she sought to learn more from the expression of the
speaker than from his words:
"Mr.
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