"
"I wish you would let ME tell you--let me speak for myself."
"I don't think it is necessary," said Catherine.
"Not for you, perhaps, but for me. It would be a great satisfaction-
-and I have not many." He seemed to be coming nearer; Catherine
turned away. "Can we not be friends again?" he said.
"We are not enemies," said Catherine. "I have none but friendly
feelings to you."
"Ah, I wonder whether you know the happiness it gives me to hear you
say that!" Catherine uttered no intimation that she measured the
influence of her words; and he presently went on, "You have not
changed--the years have passed happily for you."
"They have passed very quietly," said Catherine.
"They have left no marks; you are admirably young." This time he
succeeded in coming nearer--he was close to her; she saw his glossy
perfumed beard, and his eyes above it looking strange and hard. It
was very different from his old--from his young--face. If she had
first seen him this way she would not have liked him. It seemed to
her that he was smiling, or trying to smile. "Catherine," he said,
lowering his voice, "I have never ceased to think of you."
"Please don't say those things," she answered.
"Do you hate me?"
"Oh no," said Catherine.
Something in her tone discouraged him, but in a moment he recovered
himself. "Have you still some kindness for me, then?"
"I don't know why you have come here to ask me such things!"
Catherine exclaimed.
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