I
have said nothing in the way of attack or blame. I acknowledge
that it is not my place to stand in judgment over your acts. I have
more reason to blame myself than you, and God knows I have
blamed myself bitterly." The tears stood in her eyes as she said
these last words, and her voice trembled.
Ratcliffe saw that he had gained an advantage, and, sitting down
nearer to her, he dropped his voice and urged his suit still more
energetically:
"You did me justice then; why not do it now? You were convinced
then that I did the best I could. I have always done so. On the other
hand I have never pretended that all my acts could be justified by
abstract morality. Where, then, is the divergence between us?"
Mrs. Lee did not undertake to answer this last argument: she only
returned to her old ground. "Mr. Ratcliffe," she said, "I do not want
to argue this question. I have no doubt that you can overcome me
in argument. Perhaps on my side this is a matter of feeling rather
than of reason, but the truth is only too evident to me that I am not
fitted for politics. I should be a drag upon you. Let me be the judge
of my own weakness! Do not insist upon pressing me, further!"
She was ashamed of herself for this appeal to a man whom she
could not respect, as though she were a suppliant at his mercy, but
she feared the reproach of having deceived him, and she tried
pitiably to escape it.
Ratcliffe was only encouraged by her weakness.
"I must insist upon pressing it, Mrs.
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