and can't: that must be a bitter thing"-Caleb paused a moment and shook his head—"it is not for me to make your life harder to you."
"But you do—you do make it harder to me," said Bulstrode constrained into a genuine, pleading cry. "You make it harder to me by turning your back on me."
"That I'm forced to do," said Caleb, still more gently, lifting up his hand. "I am sorry. I don't judge you and say, he is wicked, and I am righteous. God forbid. I don't know everything. A man may do wrong, and his will may rise clear out of it, though he can't get his life clear. That's a bad punishment. If it is so with you,—well, I'm very sorry for you. But I have that feeling inside me, that I can't go on working with you. That's all, Mr Bulstrode. Everything else is buried, so far as my will goes. And I wish you good-day."
"One moment, Mr Garth!" said Bulstrode, hurriedly. "I may trust then to your solemn assurance that you will not repeat either to man or woman what—even if it have any degree of truth in it—is yet a malicious representation?"
Caleb's wrath was stirred, and he said, indignantly—
"Why should I have said it if I didn't mean