"I tell you, Jem, it cannot be. Once for all, I will never marry
you."
"And is this the end of all my hopes and fears? the end of my life,
I may say, for it is the end of all worth living for!" His
agitation rose and carried him into passion. "Mary, you'll hear,
maybe, of me as a drunkard, and maybe as a thief, and maybe as a
murderer. Remember! when all are speaking ill of me, you will have
no right to blame me, for it's your cruelty that will have made me
what I feel I shall become. You won't even say you'll try and like
me; will you, Mary?" said he, suddenly changing his tone from
threatening despair to fond, passionate entreaty, as he took her
hand and held it forcibly between both of his, while he tried to
catch a glimpse of her averted face. She was silent, but it was
from deep and violent emotion. He could not bear to wait; he would
not hope, to be dashed away again; he rather in his bitterness of
heart chose the certainty of despair, and before she could resolve
what to answer, he flung away her hand and rushed out of the house.
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