'I was often afraid it would have to be done,' she said at last.
'And pray may I ask your reasons?' The Squire's tone was sarcastic.
'I should like to know in what I have failed to satisfy you. I
suppose you thought I was rude to you this morning?'
'Oh, that didn't matter,' she said hastily. 'The fact is, Mr.
Mannering,' she crossed her hands quietly in front of her, 'you put
responsibilities on me that I am not prepared to carry. I feel I
must give them up.'
'I thought you liked responsibility.'
Elizabeth coloured.
'It--it depends what sort. I begin to see now that my
principles--and opinions--are so different from yours that, if we go
further, I shall either be disappointing you or--doing what I think
wrong.'
'You can't conceive ever giving up your opinion to mine?'
'No!' Elizabeth shook her head with decision. 'No! that I really
can't conceive!'
'Upon my word!' said the Squire, fairly taken aback. They confronted
each other. Elizabeth began to look disturbed. Her eyelids flickered
once or twice.
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