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You are good to me, Alina.
And I am sorry for your pain, whatever it may be.
I thank you.
You mustn't fear me.
We are friends now, you see?
Come kiss me.
Perhaps... after this child is born... if this child should live, God willing...
we could find a better place for you.
Perhaps you'd even wish to marry.
Oh, no, miss, you think too highly of me.
Why not? You're a handsome girl.
I can only hope to marry a man who loves me
half as much as Master Crawford does you.
He adores you.
Adores me? Do you really think so?
But of course, you must know that.
I can hardly imagine he adores the harbinger of death.
You have been unfortunate in your losses,
but a healthy babe is sure to come.
You are young yet. You cannot lose hope.
I'm afraid, darling.
I'm very afraid.
Afraid? Of what?
My dear Dalton...
I remember him as he was, but now...
he looks on me with such fury, such absolute anger.
These are fearful fancies. Do not think of it!
You cannot deny the change in him!
I know not what I have done, but sometimes...
What is it?
I see myself sometimes, when I was unspoilt and new to the world,
and I was not, Mrs. Crawford, the barren mistress of Crawford Manor
but Rosaleen-- the handsomest girl at assembly,
the daughter of the most prominent scholar in Amherst,
and the one girl in the village that no man dared stare
in the eye, lest his very soul become unhook'd from his framed.
I'm dancing at a ball, and they're calling my name
Rosaleen! You are beautiful!
My hair falls down my back like a long golden rope
and I think, "I am beautiful."
A man stares at me there with a furious handsome glance
He finds my hand, I feel his heat.
He's strong, like my Papa, but his arms reach so gently,
He brands my soul, I let him in--
I'm wand'ring through the rain, and they're crying my name
Rosaleen-- You're dying.
I'm not afraid of him, Alina.
I won't be.
He's my husband, made for loving, not fearing.
But sometimes...
He speaks so harsh... so loud...
I see an animal in his eyes.
He brushes my side and my heart begs to flee.
But no, Alina, no...
I'll suspect him of nothing but love.
But love, Alina!
I'm wan'dring through the rain,
and they're crying my name,
Rosaleen...
Whose footsteps come?
Quick, appear at ease!
Good evening, beloved.
My gentle husband and master!
What's this? Do I see tears on your pretty little cheeks?
Oh no dear, no tears. You know I am always happy.
She cries, Alina.
Tell me, why does my wife cry?
I cannot say, sir.
Come, Rosaleen. Out with it.
Do not tease. You must know I am with child.
With child!
Yes, praise God! Is it not a blessing?
I should say so.
Please husband, I do not wish to bring you shame or infamy.
I am perfectly willing to stay at my mother's house until the child is born.
And why should my child not be born in my own home?
You know what I mean!
Should the child... like the others... be stillborn!
Then all the better!
A ***'s child life is a cruel one.
Better that he not be born, or that she not be born--
Your cruelty is extraordinary!
Human cruelty is a fascinating thing, my dear.
As a connoisseur, you must know that.
There is not limit to the mad things you will say, is there?
Curse you! Curse you!
I swear, I do not know how I have offended you!
My lady!
Is she all right?
Only frightened, sir.
You will not go to your mother's, you will stay here and be my wife.
Please sir, look gently upon her!
I cannot look gently upon a ***.
What can he mean by this?
Only folly and rage, miss. Let him soothe himself elsewhere.