The child could see that her mother's ignorance did not
trouble her; and also that she who confessed ignorance was yet in close
communication with him who knew all about everything, and delighted in
making his children understand.
And now came Vavasor from his study of the dog-fish. His nature was a
poetic one, though much choked with the weeds of the conventional and
commonplace, and he had seen and felt something of what Hester intended.
But he was not alive enough to understand hate. He was able to hate and
laugh. He could not feel the danger of hate as Hester, for hate is
death, and it needs life to know death.
"He is cruel, and the very incarnation of selfishness," he said. "I
should like to set my heel on him."
"If I were to allow myself to hate him," returned Hester, "I should hate
him too much to kill him. I should let him live on in his ugliness, and
hold back my hate lest it should wither him in the cool water. To let
him live would be my revenge, the worst I should know. I must not look
at him, for it makes me feel as wicked as he looks."
She glanced at Vavasor. His eyes were fixed on her. She turned away
uncomfortable: could it be that he was like the dog-fish?
"I declare.
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