"Perhaps I am able to understand what you mean. At least I understand self-reproach." In spite of preparation he was almost alarmed at Gwendolen's precipitancy of confidence towards him, in contrast with her habitual resolute concealment.
"What should you do if you were like me—feeling that you were wrong and miserable, and dreading everything to come?" It seemed that she was hurrying to make the utmost use of this opportunity to speak as she would.
"That is not to be amended by doing one thing only—but many," said Deronda, decisively.
"What?" said Gwendolen, hastily, moving her brow from the glass and looking at him.
He looked full at her in return, with what she thought was severity. He felt that it was not a moment in which he must let himself be tender, and flinch from implying a hard opinion.
"I mean there are many thoughts and habits that may help us to bear inevitable sorrow. Multitudes have to bear it."
She turned her brow to the window again, and said impatiently, "You must tell me then what to think and what to do; else why did you not let me go on doing as I liked, and not minding? If I had gone on gambling I might have won again, and I might have got not to care for any-
