If he had opened his lips to speak, he could only have echoed, "It can never be altered--it remains unaltered, to alter other things." But he was silent and motionless--he did not know how long--before he turned to look at her, and saw her sunk back with closed eyes, like a lost, weary, storm-beaten white doe, unable to rise and pursue its unguided way. He rose and stood before her. The movement touched her consciousness, and she opened her eyes with a slight quivering that seemed like fear.
"You must rest now. Try to rest: try to sleep. And may I see you again this evening--to-morrow--when you have had some rest? Let us say no more now."
The tears came, and she could not answer except by a slight movement of the head. Deronda rang for attendance, spoke urgently of the necessity that she should be got to rest, and then left her.
He did not know how long it was before he turned to look at her, and saw her sunk back with closed eyes, like a lost, weary, storm-beaten white doe. He rose, and she opened her eyes with a slight quivering that seemed like fear.
"You must rest now. Try to sleep. And may I see you again when you have rested? Let us say no more now."
The tears came, and she could not answer except by a slight movement of the head. Deronda urged her again to rest, and left her.