I happened to look
up--and there stood Rosanna Spearman at the side of me, like a ghost!
Her stealing on me in that way was so strange, that I hardly knew what
to do at first. Seeing a very anxious expression in her face, I asked
her if she wished to speak to me. She answered, 'Yes, if I dare.'
Knowing what suspicion attached to her, I could only put one
construction on such language as that. I confess it made me
uncomfortable. I had no wish to invite the girl's confidence. At the
same time, in the difficulties that now beset us, I could hardly feel
justified in refusing to listen to her, if she was really bent on
speaking to me. It was an awkward position; and I dare say I got out of
it awkwardly enough. I said to her, 'I don't quite understand you. Is
there anything you want me to do?' Mind, Betteredge, I didn't speak
unkindly! The poor girl can't help being ugly--I felt that, at the time.
The cue was still in my hand, and I went on knocking the balls about,
to take off the awkwardness of the thing. As it turned out, I only made
matters worse still. I'm afraid I mortified her without meaning it! She
suddenly turned away. 'He looks at the billiard balls,' I heard her say.
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