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"
I
must
go
,
"
said
Will
,
when
the
door
had
closed
again
—
advancing
towards
her
.
"
The
day
after
to
-
morrow
I
shall
leave
Middlemarch
.
"
"
You
have
acted
in
every
way
rightly
,
"
said
Dorothea
,
in
a
low
tone
,
feeling
a
pressure
at
her
heart
which
made
it
difficult
to
speak
.
She
put
out
her
hand
,
and
Will
took
it
for
an
instant
with
.
out
speaking
,
for
her
words
had
seemed
to
him
cruelly
cold
and
unlike
herself
.
Their
eyes
met
,
but
there
was
discontent
in
his
,
and
in
hers
there
was
only
sadness
.
He
turned
away
and
took
his
portfolio
under
his
arm
.
"
I
have
never
done
you
injustice
.
Please
remember
me
,
"
said
Dorothea
,
repressing
a
rising
sob
.
"
Why
should
you
say
that
?
"
said
Will
,
with
irritation
.
"
As
if
I
were
not
in
danger
of
forgetting
everything
else
.
"
He
had
really
a
movement
of
anger
against
her
at
that
moment
,
and
it
impelled
him
to
go
away
without
pause
.
It
was
all
one
flash
to
Dorothea
—
his
last
words
—
his
distant
bow
to
her
as
he
reached
the
door
—
the
sense
that
he
was
no
longer
there
.
She
sank
into
the
chair
,
and
for
a
few
moments
sat
like
a
statue
,
while
images
and
emotions
were
hurrying
upon
her
.
Joy
came
first
,
in
spite
of
the
threatening
train
behind
it
—
joy
in
the
impression
that
it
was
really
herself
whom
Will
loved
and
was
renouncing
,
that
there
was
really
no
other
love
less
permissible
,
more
blameworthy
,
which
honor
was
hurrying
him
away
from
.
They
were
parted
all
the
same
,
but
—
Dorothea
drew
a
deep
breath
and
felt
her
strength
return
—
she
could
think
of
him
unrestrainedly
.
At
that
moment
the
parting
was
easy
to
bear
:
the
first
sense
of
loving
and
being
loved
excluded
sorrow
.
It
was
as
if
some
hard
icy
pressure
had
melted
,
and
her
consciousness
had
room
to
expand
:
her
past
was
come
back
to
her
with
larger
interpretation
.
The
joy
was
not
the
less
—
perhaps
it
was
the
more
complete
just
then
—
because
of
the
irrevocable
parting
;
for
there
was
no
reproach
,
no
contemptuous
wonder
to
imagine
in
any
eye
or
from
any
lips
.
He
had
acted
so
as
to
defy
reproach
,
and
make
wonder
respectful
.
Any
one
watching
her
might
have
seen
that
there
was
a
fortifying
thought
within
her
.
Just
as
when
inventive
power
is
working
with
glad
ease
some
small
claim
on
the
attention
is
fully
met
as
if
it
were
only
a
cranny
opened
to
the
sunlight
,
it
was
easy
now
for
Dorothea
to
write
her
memoranda
.
She
spoke
her
last
words
to
the
housekeeper
in
cheerful
tones
,
and
when
she
seated
herself
in
the
carriage
her
eyes
were
bright
and
her
cheeks
blooming
under
the
dismal
bonnet
.
She
threw
back
the
heavy
"
weepers
,
"
and
looked
before
her
,
wondering
which
road
Will
had
taken
.
It
was
in
her
nature
to
be
proud
that
he
was
blameless
,
and
through
all
her
feelings
there
ran
this
vein
—
"
I
was
right
to
defend
him
.
"
The
coachman
was
used
to
drive
his
grays
at
a
good
pane
,
Mr
.
Casaubon
being
unenjoying
and
impatient
in
everything
away
from
his
desk
,
and
wanting
to
get
to
the
end
of
all
journeys
;
and
Dorothea
was
now
bowled
along
quickly
.
Driving
was
pleasant
,
for
rain
in
the
night
had
laid
the
dust
,
and
the
blue
sky
looked
far
off
,
away
from
the
region
of
the
great
clouds
that
sailed
in
masses
.
The
earth
looked
like
a
happy
place
under
the
vast
heavens
,
and
Dorothea
was
wishing
that
she
might
overtake
Will
and
see
him
once
more
.
