Читать книгу Charles Peace, or The Adventures of a Notorious Burglar онлайн

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“I don’no but what you beest right. I don’no what med me ask such a question.”

He again became silent and thoughtful. He was doatingly fond of the young woman by his side—​much more attached to her than he had supposed, or, indeed, cared to confess.

A suspicion crossed his mind; it was vague and shadowy at first, and did not assume any tangible shape. It was this—

“What if Jane had formed an attachment in the neighbourhood?”

He had never given that a thought before, not until after he had avowed his love.

The thought was agony. Poor Ashbrook was a man of impulse. He had never throughout his life been accustomed to consider twice before he spoke. He was hasty and at times brusque in his manner; for the rest he was as upright and honest as the day, and was quite incapable of doing a mean, paltry, or ungenerous action. Of all men in the world he was, perhaps, the one least able to bear a disappointment or a repulse from the woman he loved.

The bare supposition of a rival—​and it might be a successful one—​was gall and wormwood to him.