There did not seem to be any thing suspicious in his
manner.
"It wasn't easy even for me," he resumed, throwing another glance at
her; she sat with her eyes cast down, so that he could observe her with
impunity. "It would have been impossible unless you had helped me to it.
You have taught me yourself, even more than I have studied you."
Sophie started, and a look of terror, bewilderment, and passionate
repudiation, lightened in her eyes. How dared he--how could he, say
that? how so falsely misrepresent her actions, and misinterpret her
purposes? Her mind went staggering back over the past, seeking for means
of self-justification and defense. She had only meant to benefit him--to
amplify and soften his character--to inspire him with more ideal views
and aims; and to do this she had--what? Sophie paused, and shuddered.
Could it, after all, be true? Had she, forgetful of maidenly modesty and
reserve, opened to this man's eyes her secret soul? invited him into the
privacy of her heart, to criticise and handle it?--invited him!--brought
forward, and pressed upon his notice, the thoughts and impulses which
she should scarcely have whispered even to herself? Had she done this?
"You have taught me that there is no one like you in the world," said
Bressant.
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