Jude the Obsure

"Ah, dear Jude; that's because you are like a totally deaf man

observing people listening to music. You say 'What are they

regarding? Nothing is there.' But something is."

"That is a hard saying from you; and not a true parallel! You threw

off old husks of prejudices, and taught me to do it; and now you go

back upon yourself. I confess I am utterly stultified in my estimate

of you."

"Dear friend, my only friend, don't be hard with me! I can't help

being as I am, I am convinced I am right--that I see the light at

last. But oh, how to profit by it!"

They walked along a few more steps till they were outside the

building and she had returned the key. "Can this be the girl," said

Jude when she came back, feeling a slight renewal of elasticity now

that he was in the open street; "can this be the girl who brought

the pagan deities into this most Christian city?--who mimicked Miss

Fontover when she crushed them with her heel?--quoted Gibbon, and

Shelley, and Mill? Where are dear Apollo, and dear Venus now!"

"Oh don't, don't be so cruel to me, Jude, and I so unhappy!" she

sobbed. "I can't bear it! I was in error--I cannot reason with you.

I was wrong--proud in my own conceit! Arabella's coming was the

finish. Don't satirize me: it cuts like a knife!"

He flung his arms round her and kissed her passionately there in the

silent street, before she could hinder him. They went on till they

came to a little coffee-house. "Jude," she said with suppressed

tears, "would you mind getting a lodging here?"

"I will--if, if you really wish? But do you? Let me go to our door

and understand you."

He went and conducted her in. She said she wanted no supper, and

went in the dark upstairs and struck a light. Turning she found that

Jude had followed her, and was standing at the chamber door. She

went to him, put her hand in his, and said "Good-night."

"But Sue! Don't we live here?"

"You said you would do as I wished!"

"Yes. Very well! ... Perhaps it was wrong of me to argue

distastefully as I have done! Perhaps as we couldn't conscientiously

marry at first in the old-fashioned way, we ought to have parted.

Perhaps the world is not illuminated enough for such experiments as

ours! Who were we, to think we could act as pioneers!"