might not be much) but others.'

Others! He knew at whom that word pointed, and frowned heavily.

'I speak to you for the sake of others. Also your own sake; and for
mine. Since our marriage, you have been arrogant to me; and I have
repaid you in kind. You have shown to me and everyone around us, every
day and hour, that you think I am graced and distinguished by your
alliance. I do not think so, and have shown that too. It seems you do
not understand, or (so far as your power can go) intend that each of us
shall take a separate course; and you expect from me instead, a homage
you will never have.'

Although her face was still the same, there was emphatic confirmation of
this 'Never' in the very breath she drew.

'I feel no tenderness towards you; that you know. You would care nothing
for it, if I did or could. I know as well that you feel none towards
me. But we are linked together; and in the knot that ties us, as I have
said, others are bound up. We must both die; we are both connected with
the dead already, each by a little child. Let us forbear.'

Mr Dombey took a long respiration, as if he would have said, Oh! was
this all!

'There is no wealth,' she went on, turning paler as she watched him,
while her eyes grew yet more lustrous in their earnestness, 'that could
buy these words of me, and the meaning that belongs to them. Once cast
away as idle breath, no wealth or power can bring them back. I mean
them; I have weighed them; and I will be true to what I undertake. If
you will promise to forbear on your part, I will promise to forbear on
mine. We are a most unhappy pair, in whom, from different causes, every
sentiment that blesses marriage, or justifies it, is rooted out; but in
the course of time, some friendship, or some fitness for each other, may
arise between us. I will try to hope so, if you will make the endeavour
too; and I will look forward to a better and a happier use of age than I
have made of youth or prime.

Throughout she had spoken in a low plain voice, that neither rose nor
fell; ceasing, she dropped the hand with which she had enforced herself
to be so passionless and distinct, but not the eyes with which she had
so steadily observed him.

'Madam,' said Mr Dombey, with his utmost dignity, 'I cannot entertain
any proposal of this extraordinary nature.

She looked at him yet, without the least change.

'I cannot,' said Mr Dombey, rising as he spoke, 'consent to temporise
or treat with y