"
"No," I said; "not at all."
"Then you do not blame me for taking the part I _must_ take?"
"No," I said. "You must take it."
"Are you sorry I take it?" said Thorold with a change of tone,
and coming a step nearer.
"Sorry?" I said; and I looked up for an instant. "No; how
could I be sorry? It is your duty. It is right." But as I
looked down again I had the greatest difficulty not to burst
into tears. I felt as though my heart would break in two with
its burden of pain. It cost a great effort to stand still and
quiet, without showing anything.
"What is it then?" said Thorold; and with the next words I
knew he had come close to my side and was stooping his head
down to my face, while his voice dropped. "What is it, Daisy?
— Is it — Oh, Daisy, I love you better than anything else in
the world, except my duty; — Daisy, do you love me?"
Nothing could have been more impossible to me, I think, than
to answer a word; but, indeed, Thorold did not seem to want
it. As he questioned me, he had put his arm round me and drawn
me nearer and nearer, stooping his face to me, till his lips
took their own answer at mine; indeed took answer after
answer, and then, in a sort of passion of mute joy, kissed my
face all over.
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