During all this time both Arowhena and myself had been dreaming, and
drifting towards an avowed attachment, but had not dared to face the
real difficulties of the position. Gradually, however, matters came to
a crisis in spite of ourselves, and we got to see the true state of the
case, all too clearly.
One evening we were sitting in the garden, and I had been trying in
every stupid roundabout way to get her to say that she should be at any
rate sorry for a man, if he really loved a woman who would not marry
him. I had been stammering and blushing, and been as silly as any one
could be, and I suppose had pained her by fishing for pity for myself
in such a transparent way, and saying nothing about her own need of it;
at any rate, she turned all upon me with a sweet sad smile and said,
“Sorry? I am sorry for myself; I am sorry for you; and I am sorry for
every one.” The words had no sooner crossed her lips than she bowed her
head, gave me a look as though I were to make no answer, and left me.
The words were few and simple, but the manner with which they were
uttered was ineffable: the scales fell from my eyes, and I felt that I
had no right to try and induce her to infringe one of the most
inviolable customs of her country, as she needs must do if she were to
marry me. I sat for a long while thinking, and when I remembered the
sin and shame and misery which an unrighteous marriage—for as such it
would be held in Erewhon—would entail, I became thoroughly ashamed of
myself for having been so long self-blinded. I write coldly now, but I
suffered keenly at the time, and should probably retain a much more
vivid recollection of what I felt, had not all ended so happily.
As for giving up the idea of marrying Arowhena, it never so much as
entered my head to do so: the solution must be found in some other
direction than this. The idea of waiting till somebody married Zulora
was to be no less summarily dismissed. To marry Arowhena at once in
Erewhon—this had already been abandoned: there remained therefore but
one alternative, and that was to run away with her, and get her with me
to Europe, where there would be no bar to our union save my own
impecuniosity, a matter which gave me no uneasiness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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