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- Джордж Элиот
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- Стр. 531/572
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No
other
woman
exists
by
the
side
of
her
.
I
would
rather
touch
her
hand
if
it
were
dead
,
than
I
would
touch
any
other
woman
’
s
living
.
"
Rosamond
,
while
these
poisoned
weapons
were
being
hurled
at
her
,
was
almost
losing
the
sense
of
her
identity
,
and
seemed
to
be
waking
into
some
new
terrible
existence
.
She
had
no
sense
of
chill
resolute
repulsion
,
of
reticent
self
-
justification
such
as
she
had
known
under
Lydgate
’
s
most
stormy
displeasure
:
all
her
sensibility
was
turned
into
a
bewildering
novelty
of
pain
;
she
felt
a
new
terrified
recoil
under
a
lash
never
experienced
before
.
What
another
nature
felt
in
opposition
to
her
own
was
being
burnt
and
bitten
into
her
consciousness
.
When
Will
had
ceased
to
speak
she
had
become
an
image
of
sickened
misery
:
her
lips
were
pale
,
and
her
eyes
had
a
tearless
dismay
in
them
.
If
it
had
been
Tertius
who
stood
opposite
to
her
,
that
look
of
misery
would
have
been
a
pang
to
him
,
and
he
would
have
sunk
by
her
side
to
comfort
her
,
with
that
strong
-
armed
comfort
which
,
she
had
often
held
very
cheap
.
Let
it
be
forgiven
to
Will
that
he
had
no
such
movement
of
pity
.
He
had
felt
no
bond
beforehand
to
this
woman
who
had
spoiled
the
ideal
treasure
of
his
life
,
and
he
held
himself
blameless
.
He
knew
that
he
was
cruel
,
but
he
had
no
relenting
in
him
yet
.
After
he
had
done
speaking
,
he
still
moved
about
,
half
in
absence
of
mind
,
and
Rosamond
sat
perfectly
still
.
At
length
Will
,
seeming
to
bethink
himself
,
took
up
his
hat
,
yet
stood
some
moments
irresolute
.
He
had
spoken
to
her
in
a
way
that
made
a
phrase
of
common
politeness
difficult
to
utter
;
and
yet
,
now
that
he
had
come
to
the
point
of
going
away
from
her
without
further
speech
,
he
shrank
from
it
as
a
brutality
;
he
felt
checked
and
stultified
in
his
anger
.
He
walked
towards
the
mantel
-
piece
and
leaned
his
arm
on
it
,
and
waited
in
silence
for
—
he
hardly
knew
what
.
The
vindictive
fire
was
still
burning
in
him
,
and
he
could
utter
no
word
of
retractation
;
but
it
was
nevertheless
in
his
mind
that
having
come
back
to
this
hearth
where
he
had
enjoyed
a
caressing
friendship
he
had
found
.
calamity
seated
there
—
he
had
had
suddenly
revealed
to
him
a
trouble
that
lay
outside
the
home
as
well
as
within
it
.
And
what
seemed
a
foreboding
was
pressing
upon
him
as
with
slow
pincers
:
—
that
his
life
might
come
to
be
enslaved
by
this
helpless
woman
who
had
thrown
herself
upon
him
in
the
dreary
sadness
of
her
heart
.
But
he
was
in
gloomy
rebellion
against
the
fact
that
his
quick
apprehensiveness
foreshadowed
to
him
,
and
when
his
eyes
fell
on
Rosamond
’
s
blighted
face
it
seemed
to
him
that
he
was
the
more
pitiable
of
the
two
;
for
pain
must
enter
into
its
glorified
life
of
memory
before
it
can
turn
into
compassion
.
And
so
they
remained
for
many
minutes
,
opposite
each
other
,
far
apart
,
in
silence
;
Will
’
s
face
still
possessed
by
a
mute
rage
,
and
Rosamond
’
s
by
a
mute
misery
.
The
poor
thing
had
no
force
to
fling
out
any
passion
in
return
;
the
terrible
collapse
of
the
illusion
towards
which
all
her
hope
had
been
strained
was
a
stroke
which
had
too
thoroughly
shaken
her
:
her
little
world
was
in
ruins
,
and
she
felt
herself
tottering
in
the
midst
as
a
lonely
bewildered
consciousness
.
Will
wished
that
she
would
speak
and
bring
some
mitigating
shadow
across
his
own
cruel
speech
,
which
seemed
to
stand
staring
at
them
both
in
mockery
of
any
attempt
at
revived
fellowship
.
But
she
said
nothing
,
and
at
last
with
a
desperate
effort
over
himself
,
he
asked
,
"
Shall
I
come
in
and
see
Lydgate
this
evening
?
"
"
If
you
like
,
"
Rosamond
answered
,
just
audibly
.
And
then
Will
went
out
of
the
house
,
Martha
never
knowing
that
he
had
been
in
.
