Why--er--really, on so delicate a
matter, I--I-- [_He maunders._
_Hyp._ MAUD, why _will_ you be so headstrong! (_In a rapid whisper._)
Can't you see ... can't you _guess_?...
_Maud._ I guess I want to make sure Mr. CULCHARD isn't that kind of
magnanimous man himself. I shouldn't want him to renounce _me_!
_Hyp._ MAUD! You might at _least_ wait until Mr. CULCHARD has--
_Maud._ Oh, but he _did_--weeks ago, at Bingen. And at Lugano, too,
the other day, he spoke out tolerable plain. I guess he didn't wish
any secret made about it--_did_ you, Mr. CULCHARD?
_Culch._ I--ah--this conversation is rather ... If you'll excuse me--
[_Escapes with as much dignity as he can command._
_Maud._ Well, my dear,--that's the sort of self-denying hairpin _he_
is! What do you think of him _now_?
_Hyp._ I do not think so highly of him, I confess. His renunciation
was evidently less prompted by consideration for his friend than by a
recollection--tardy enough, I am afraid--of the duty which bound him
to _you_, dearest. But if you had seen and heard him, as I did, you
would not have doubted the _reality_ of the sacrifice, whatever the
true reason may have been. For myself, I am conscious of neither anger
nor sorrow--my heart, as I told you, was never really affected.
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