Iwastheoffender，andIknewitThatknowledgetransformedmypityintopassiveendurance，and，eventually，intoblindhat~thesameinstinct，Isuppose，whichpromptsamantosavagelystamponthespiderhehasbuthalfkilledAndwiththishateinmybosomtheseasonof1882cametoanend。
NextyearwemetagainatSimla-shewithhermonotonousfaceandtimidattemptsatreconciliation，andIwithloathingofherineveryfibreofmyframeSeveraltimesIcouldnotavoidmeetingheralone；andoneachoccasionherwordswereidenticallythesameStilltheunreasoningwailthatitwasalla“mistake“；andstillthehopeofeventually“makingfriends。”ImighthaveseenhadIcaredtolook，thatthathopeonlywaskeepingheraliveShegrewmorewanandthinmonthbymonthYouwillagreewithme，atleast，thatsuchconductwouldhavedrivenanyonetodespairItwasuncalledfor；childish；unwomanlyImaintainthatshewasmuchtoblameAndagain，sometimes，intheblack，fever-strickennight-watches，IhavebeguntothinkthatImighthavebeenalittlekindertoherButthatreallyisa“delusion。”I
couldnothavecontinuedpretendingtoloveherwhenIdidn’t；
couldI？Itwouldhavebeenunfairtousboth。
Lastyearwemetagain-onthesametermsasbeforeThesamewearyappeal，andthesamecurtanswersfrommylipsAtleastI
wouldmakeherseehowwhollywrongandhopelesswereherattemptsatresumingtheoldrelationshipAstheseasonworeon，wefellapart-thatistosay，shefounditdifficulttomeetme，forI
hadotherandmoreabsorbingintereststoattendtoWhenIthinkitoverquietlyinmysick-room，theseasonof1884seemsaconfusednightmarewhereinlightandshadewerefantasticallyintermingled-mycourtshipoflittleKittyMannering；myhopes，doubts，andfears；ourlongridestogether；mytremblingavowalofattachment；
herreply；andnowandagainavisionofawhitefaceflittingbyinthe’rickshawwiththeblackandwhiteliveriesIoncewatchedforsoearnestly；thewaveofMrsWessington’sglovedhand；and，whenshemetmealone，whichwasbutseldom，theirksomemonotonyofherappealIlovedKittyMannering；honestly，heartilylovedher，andwithmyloveforhergrewmyhatredforAgnesInAugustKittyandIwereengagedThenextdayImetthoseaccursed“magpie“jhampaniesatthebackofJakko，and，movedbysomepassingsentimentofpity，stoppedtotellMrs。
WessingtoneverythingSheknewitalready。
“SoIhearyou’reengaged，Jackdear。”Then，withoutamoment’spause-“I’msureit’sallamistake-ahideousmistakeWeshallbeasgoodfriendssomeday，Jack，asweeverwere。”
MyanswermighthavemadeevenamanwinceItcutthedyingwomanbeforemeliketheblowof’awhip“Pleaseforgiveme，Jack；Ididn’tmeantomakeyouangry；butit’strue，it’strue！”
AndMrsWessingtonbrokedowncompletelyIturnedawayandlefthertofinishherjourneyinpeace，feeling，butonlyforamomentortwo，thatIhadbeenanunutterablymeanhoundI
lookedback，andsawthatshehadturnedher’rickshawwiththeidea，Isuppose，ofovertakingme。
Thesceneanditssurroundingswerephotographedonmymemory。
Therain-sweptskywewereattheendofthewetweather，thesodden，dingypines，themuddyroad，andtheblackpowder-rivencliffsformedagloomybackgroundagainstwhichtheblackandwhiteliveriesofthejhampanies，theyellow-paneled’rickshawandMrsWessington’sdown-bowedgoldenheadstoodoutclearly。
Shewasholdingherhandkerchiefinherlefthandandwasleaninghackexhaustedagainstthe’rickshawcushionsIturnedmyhorseupabypathneartheSanjowlieReservoirandliterallyranaway。
OnceIfanciedIheardafaintcallof“Jack！”ThismayhavebeenimaginationIneverstoppedtoverifyitTenminuteslaterIcameacrossKittyonhorseback；and，inthedelightofalongridewithher，forgotallabouttheinterview。
AweeklaterMrsWessingtondied，andtheinexpressibleburdenofherexistencewasr...完整阅读请扫描二维码下载丁香书院APP免费看：