Again, as he kissed me, painful thoughts darkened his aspect. "My
scarred vision! My crippled strength!" he murmured regretfully.
I caressed, in order to soothe him. I knew of what he was thinking,
and wanted to speak for him, but dared not. As he turned aside
his face a minute, I saw a tear slide from under the sealed eyelid,
and trickle down the manly cheek. My heart swelled.
"I am no better than the old lightning-struck chestnut-tree in
Thornfield orchard," he remarked ere long. "And what right would
that ruin have to bid a budding woodbine cover its decay with
freshness?"
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