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¡¡¡¡ "I fancy I do think it--since you ask me," said Jude. "Remember I'll do it if you wish, own darling." While she hesitated he went on to confess that, though he thought they ought to be able to do it, he felt checked by the dread of incompetency just as she did-- from their peculiarities, perhaps, because they were unlike other people. "We are horribly sensitive; that's really what's the matter with us, Sue!" he declared. ¡¡¡¡ "I fancy more are like us than we think!" ¡¡¡¡ "Well, I don't know. The intention of the contract is good, and right for many, no doubt; but in our case it may defeat its own ends because we are the queer sort of people we are-- folk in whom domestic ties of a forced kind snuff out cordiality and spontaneousness." ¡¡¡¡ Sue still held that there was not much
oil paintingqueer or exceptional in them: that all were so. "Everybody is getting to feel as we do. We are a little beforehand, that's all. In fifty, a hundred, years the descendants of these two will act and feel worse than we. They will see weltering humanity still more vividly than we do now, as ¡¡¡¡ Shapes like our own selves hideously multiplied, ¡¡¡¡ ¡¡¡¡ and will be afraid to reproduce them." ¡¡¡¡ "What a terrible line of poetry! ... though I have felt it myself about my fellow-creatures, at morbid times." ¡¡¡¡ Thus they murmured on, till Sue said more brightly: ¡¡¡¡ "Well--the general question is not our business, and why should we plague ourselves about it? However different our reasons are we come to the same conclusion; that for us particular two, an irrevocable oath is risky. Then, Jude, let us go home without killing our dream! Yes? How good you are, my friend: you give way to all my whims!"