the last supper

the last supper
as they liked. If the flood annoyed him, so much the better. So I gave
way and cried heartily.
Soon I heard him earnestly entreating me to be composed. I said I
could not while he was in such a passion.
'But I am not angry, Jane: I only love you too well; and you had
steeled your little pale face with such a resolute, frozen look, I
could not endure it. Hush, now, and wipe your eyes.'
His softened voice announced that he was subdued; so I, in my turn,
became calm. Now he made an effort to rest his head on my shoulder,
the last supper
but I would not permit it. Then he would draw me to him: no.
'Jane! Jane!' he said, in such an accent of bitter sadness it
thrilled along every nerve I had; 'you don't love me, then? It was
only my station, and the rank of my wife, that you valued? Now that
you think me disqualified to become your husband, you recoil from my
touch as if I were some toad or ape.'
These words cut me: yet what could I do or say? I ought probably to
have done or said nothing; but I was so tortured by a sense of remorse
at thus hurting his feelings, I could not control the wish to drop
balm where I had wounded.
the last supper