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'And my dear Mortimer, returned Eugene, lightly fanning away the smoke with his hand for the better exposition of his frankness of face and manner, 'believe me, I would answer them instantly if I could. But to enable me to do so, I must first have found out the troublesome conundrum long abandoned. Here it is. Eugene Wrayburn. Tapping his forehead and breast.
She stopped again, and gave him an earnest supplicating look. 'Well, Lizzie, well! said he, in an easy way though ill at ease with himself 'don't be unhappy, don't be reproachful. 'I cannot help being unhappy, but I do not mean to be reproachful. Mr Wrayburn, I implore you to go away from this neighbourhood, to-morrow morning. 'Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie! he remonstrated.
Inquest to-morrow, and no doubt open verdict." A stranger who had entered the station with Lightwood and Wrayburn attracts Mr. Inspector's attention. "Turned you faint, sir? You expected to identify?" "It's a horrible sight," says the stranger. "No, I can't identify." "You missed a friend, you know; or you missed a foe, or you wouldn't have come here, you know.
"The boy that guided me here said that you were the richest man in Wrayburn." "I believe I am," said the squire, complacently. "I am worth somewhere about the same as you." "That's fair; it is more for you than for me. It costs me ten thousand dollars a year to live in the city." "Does it?" inquired Leech.
'It grieves you to see me distressed, Mr Wrayburn; it grieves me to see you distressed. I don't reproach you. Indeed I don't reproach you. You have not felt this as I feel it, being so different from me, and beginning from another point of view. You have not thought. But I entreat you to think now, think now! 'What am I to think of? asked Eugene, bitterly. 'Think of me.
Now the amazing part of this story is, that Dickens' sympathies throughout are with Wrayburn. How this comes to be so I confess I do not know. To me Wrayburn's conduct appears to be heartless, cruel, unmanly, and the use of his superior social position against the schoolmaster to be like a foul blow, and quite unworthy of a gentleman.
The man carried something over his shoulder which might have been a broken oar, or spar, or bar, and took no notice of him, but passed on. 'Halloa, friend! said Eugene, calling after him, 'are you blind? The man made no reply, but went his way. Eugene Wrayburn went the opposite way, with his hands behind him and his purpose in his thoughts.
Miss Wren was busy at her work by candle-light, and Mr Wrayburn, half amused and half vexed, and all idle and shiftless, stood by her bench looking on. Miss Wren's troublesome child was in the corner in deep disgrace, and exhibiting great wretchedness in the shivering stage of prostration from drink.
'I have never doubted that, Mr Wrayburn, said Lizzie; the more repentant, the less he claimed. 'I am very glad to hear it. Though if you had quite understood my whole meaning at first, I think you would not have refused. Do you think you would? 'I don't know that I should, Mr Wrayburn. 'Well! Then why refuse now you do understand it?
"No, I should think not," he said. "Why?" asked Cameron, meaning to draw him out. "He's too poor," said James. "You, I suppose, have no trouble in that way?" "My father is the richest man in Wrayburn." "That is lucky for you," said the collegian. "I shouldn't like to be as poor as Carter." "It isn't pleasant or convenient to be poor," said Herbert, quietly. "I don't mean always to be poor."
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