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Learning Python
FOURTH EDITION
Learning Python
Mark Lutz
Published by O’Reilly Media, Inc., 1005 Gravenstein Highway North, Sebastopol, CA 95472.
O’Reilly books may be purchased for educational, business, or sales promotional use. Online editions
are also available for most titles (http://my.safaribooksonline.com). For more information, contact our
corporate/institutional sales department: (800) 998-9938 or [email protected].
Printing History:
March 1999: First Edition.
December 2003: Second Edition.
October 2007: Third Edition.
September 2009: Fourth Edition.
Nutshell Handbook, the Nutshell Handbook logo, and the O’Reilly logo are registered trademarks of
O’Reilly Media, Inc. Learning Python, the image of a wood rat, and related trade dress are trademarks
of O’Reilly Media, Inc.
Many of the designations used by manufacturers and sellers to distinguish their products are claimed as
trademarks. Where those designations appear in this book, and O’Reilly Media, Inc., was aware of a
trademark claim, the designations have been printed in caps or initial caps.
While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher and author assume
no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information con-
tained herein.
ISBN: 978-0-596-15806-4
[M]
1252944666
To Vera.
You are my life.
Table of Contents
Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xxxi
vii
Chapter Summary 18
Test Your Knowledge: Quiz 19
Test Your Knowledge: Answers 19
Table of Contents | ix
User-Defined Classes 101
And Everything Else 102
Chapter Summary 103
Test Your Knowledge: Quiz 103
Test Your Knowledge: Answers 104
x | Table of Contents
7. Strings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 155
String Literals 157
Single- and Double-Quoted Strings Are the Same 158
Escape Sequences Represent Special Bytes 158
Raw Strings Suppress Escapes 161
Triple Quotes Code Multiline Block Strings 162
Strings in Action 163
Basic Operations 164
Indexing and Slicing 165
String Conversion Tools 169
Changing Strings 171
String Methods 172
String Method Examples: Changing Strings 174
String Method Examples: Parsing Text 176
Other Common String Methods in Action 177
The Original string Module (Gone in 3.0) 178
String Formatting Expressions 179
Advanced String Formatting Expressions 181
Dictionary-Based String Formatting Expressions 182
String Formatting Method Calls 183
The Basics 184
Adding Keys, Attributes, and Offsets 184
Adding Specific Formatting 185
Comparison to the % Formatting Expression 187
Why the New Format Method? 190
General Type Categories 193
Types Share Operation Sets by Categories 194
Mutable Types Can Be Changed In-Place 194
Chapter Summary 195
Test Your Knowledge: Quiz 195
Test Your Knowledge: Answers 196
Table of Contents | xi
More Dictionary Methods 211
A Languages Table 212
Dictionary Usage Notes 213
Other Ways to Make Dictionaries 216
Dictionary Changes in Python 3.0 217
Chapter Summary 223
Test Your Knowledge: Quiz 224
Test Your Knowledge: Answers 224
Table of Contents | xv
17. Scopes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 407
Python Scope Basics 407
Scope Rules 408
Name Resolution: The LEGB Rule 410
Scope Example 411
The Built-in Scope 412
The global Statement 414
Minimize Global Variables 415
Minimize Cross-File Changes 416
Other Ways to Access Globals 418
Scopes and Nested Functions 419
Nested Scope Details 419
Nested Scope Examples 419
The nonlocal Statement 425
nonlocal Basics 425
nonlocal in Action 426
Why nonlocal? 429
Chapter Summary 432
Test Your Knowledge: Quiz 433
Test Your Knowledge: Answers 434
Part V. Modules
xx | Table of Contents
Classes Versus Dictionaries 639
Chapter Summary 641
Test Your Knowledge: Quiz 641
Test Your Knowledge: Answers 641
"In the copia of the factious language the word Tory was
entertained, and being a vocal clever-sounding word, readily
pronounced, it kept its hold, and took possession of the foul
mouths of the faction.——The Loyalists began to cheer up and
to take heart of grace, and in the working of this crisis,
according to the common law of scolding, they considered
which way to make payment for so much of Tory as they had
been treated with to clear scores.——Immediately the train
took, and ran like wildfire and became general. And so the
account of Tory was balanced, and soon began to run up a
sharp score on the other side."—North's Examen, p. 321.
At last the great epoch of the election for North Loamshire had
arrived. The roads approaching Treby were early traversed by a
larger number of vehicles, horsemen, and also foot-passengers than
were ever seen at the annual fair. Treby was the polling-place for
many voters whose faces were quite strange in the town; and if
there were some strangers who did not come to poll, though they
had business not unconnected with the election, they were not liable
to be regarded with suspicion or especial curiosity. It was
understood that no division of a county had ever been more
thoroughly canvassed, and that there would be a hard run between
Garstin and Transome. Mr. Johnson's headquarters were at Duffield;
but it was a maxim which he repeated after the great Putty, that a
capable agent makes himself omnipresent; and quite apart from the
express between him and Jermyn, Mr. John Johnson's presence in
the universe had potent effects on this December day at Treby
Magna.
A slight drizzling rain which was observed by some Tories who
looked out of their bedroom windows before six o'clock, made them
hope that, after all, the day might pass off better than alarmists had
expected. The rain was felt to be somehow on the side of quiet and
Conservatism; but soon the breaking of the clouds and the mild
gleams of a December sun brought back previous apprehensions. As
there were already precedents for riot at a Reformed election, and
as the Trebian district had had its confidence in the natural course of
things somewhat shaken by a landed proprietor with an old name
offering himself as a Radical candidate, the election had been looked
forward to by many with a vague sense that it would be an occasion
something like a fighting match, when bad characters would
probably assemble, and there might be struggles and alarms for
respectable men, which would make it expedient for them to take a
little neat brandy as a precaution beforehand and a restorative
afterward. The tenants on the Transome estate were comparatively
fearless: poor Mr. Goffe, of Rabbit's End, considered that "one thing
was as mauling as the other," and that an election was no worse
than the sheep-rot; while Mr. Dibbs, taking the more cheerful view of
a prosperous man, reflected that if the Radicals were dangerous, it
was safer to be on their side. It was the voters for Debarry and
Garstin who considered that they alone had the right to regard
themselves as targets for evil-minded men; and Mr. Crowder, if he
could have got his ideas countenanced, would have recommended a
muster of farm-servants with defensive pitchforks on the side of
Church and king. But the bolder men were rather gratified by the
prospect of being groaned at, so that they might face about and
groan in return.
Mr. Crow, the high constable of Treby, inwardly rehearsed a brief
address to a riotous crowd in case it should be wanted, having been
warned by the rector that it was a primary duty on these occasions
to keep a watch against provocation as well as violence. The rector,
with a brother magistrate who was on the spot, had thought it
desirable to swear in some special constables, but the presence of
loyal men not absolutely required for the polling was not looked at in
the light of a provocation. The Benefit Clubs from various quarters
made a show, some with the orange-colored ribbons and streamers
of the true Tory candidate, some with the mazarine of the Whig. The
orange-colored bands played "Auld Lang Syne," and a louder
mazarine band came across them with "Oh, whistle and I will come
to thee, my lad"—probably as the tune the most symbolical of
Liberalism which their repertory would furnish. There was not a
single club bearing the Radical blue: the Sproxton Club members
wore the mazarine, and Mr. Chubb wore so much of it that he looked
(at a sufficient distance) like a very large gentianella. It was
generally understood that "these brave fellows," representing the
fine institution of Benefit Clubs, holding aloft the motto, "Let
brotherly love continue," were a civil force calculated to encourage
voters of sound opinions and keep up their spirits. But a
considerable number of unadorned heavy navvies, colliers, and
stone-pit men, who used their freedom as British subjects to be
present in Treby on this great occasion, looked like a possible uncivil
force whose politics were dubious until it was clearly seen for whom
they cheered and for whom they groaned.
Thus the way up to the polling-booths was variously lined, and
those who walked it, to whatever side they belonged, had the
advantage of hearing from the opposite side what were the most
marked defects or excesses in their personal appearance; for the
Trebians of that day held, without being aware that they had Cicero's
authority for it, that the bodily blemishes of an opponent were a
legitimate ground for ridicule; but if the voter frustrated wit by being
handsome, he was groaned at and satirized according to a formula,
in which the adjective was Tory, Whig, or Radical, as the case might
be, and the substantive a blank to be filled up after the taste of the
speaker.
Some of the more timid had chosen to go through this ordeal as
early as possible in the morning. One of the earliest was Mr. Timothy
Rose, the gentleman-farmer from Leek Malton. He had left home
with some foreboding, having swathed his more vital parts in layers
of flannel, and put on two greatcoats as a soft kind of armor. But
reflecting with some trepidation that there were no resources for
protecting his head, he once more wavered in his intention to vote;
he once more observed to Mrs. Rose that these were hard times
when a man of independent property was expected to vote "willy-
nilly;" but finally coerced by the sense that he should be looked ill on
"in these times" if he did not stand by the gentlemen round about,
he set out in his gig, taking with him a powerful wagoner, whom he
ordered to keep him in sight as he went to the polling-booth. It was
hardly more than nine o'clock when Mr. Rose, having thus come up
to the level of his times, cheered himself with a little cherry-brandy
at the Marquis, drove away in a much more courageous spirit, and
got down at Mr. Nolan's, just outside the town. The retired Londoner,
he considered, was a man of experience, who would estimate
properly the judicious course he had taken, and could make it known
to others. Mr. Nolan was superintending the removal of some shrubs
in his garden.
"Well, Mr. Nolan," said Rose, twinkling a self-complacent look over
the red prominence of his cheeks, "have you been to give your vote
yet?"
"No; all in good time. I shall go presently."
"Well, I wouldn't lose an hour, I wouldn't. I said to myself, if I've
got to do gentlemen a favor, I'll do it at once. You see, I've got no
landlord, Nolan—I'm in that position o' life that I can be
independent."
"Just so, my dear sir," said the wiry-faced Nolan, pinching his
under-lip between his thumb and finger, and giving one of those
wonderful universal shrugs, by which he seemed to be recalling all
his garments from a tendency to disperse themselves. "Come in and
see Mrs. Nolan?"
"No, no, thankye. Mrs. Rose expects me back. But, as I was
saying, I'm a independent man, and I consider it's not my part to
show favor to one more than another, but to make things as even as
I can. If I'd been a tenant to anybody, well, in course I must have
voted for my landlord—that stands to sense. But I wish everybody
well; and if one's returned to Parliament more than another, nobody
can say it's my doing; for when you can vote for two, you can make
things even. So I gave one to Debarry and one to Transome; and I
wish Garstin no ill, but I can't help the odd number, and he hangs on
to Debarry, they say."
"God bless me, sir," said Mr. Nolan, coughing down a laugh, "don't
you perceive that you might as well have stayed at home and not
voted at all, unless you would rather send a Radical to Parliament
than a sober Whig?"
"Well, I'm sorry you should have anything to say against what I've
done, Nolan," said Mr. Rose, rather crestfallen, though sustained by
inward warmth. "I thought you'd agree with me, as you're a sensible
man. But the most a independent man can do is to try and please
all; and if he hasn't the luck—here's wishing I may do it another
time," added Mr. Rose, apparently confounding a toast with a
salutation, for he put out his hand for a passing shake, and then
stepped into his gig again.
At the time that Mr. Timothy Rose left the town, the crowd in King
Street and in the market-place, where the polling-booths stood, was
fluctuating. Voters as yet were scanty, and brave fellows who had
come from any distance this morning, or who had sat up late
drinking the night before, required some reinforcement of their
strength and spirits. Every public house in Treby, not excepting the
venerable and sombre Cross-Keys, was lively with changing and
numerous company. Not, of course, that there was any treating:
treating necessarily had stopped, from moral scruples, when once
"the writs were out;" but there was drinking, which did equally well
under any name.
Poor Tommy Trounsem, breakfasting here on Falstaff's proportion
of bread, and something which, for gentility's sake, I will call sack,
was more than usually victorious over the ills of life, and felt himself
one of the heroes of the day. He had an immense light-blue cockade
in his hat, and an amount of silver in a dirty little canvas bag which
astonished himself. For some reason, at first inscrutable to him, he
had been paid for his bill-sticking with great liberality at Mr. Jermyn's
office, in spite of his having been the victim of a trick by which he
had once lost his own bills and pasted up Debarry's; but he soon
saw that this was simply a recognition of his merit as "an old family
kept out of its rights," and also of his peculiar share in an occasion
when the family was to get into Parliament. Under these
circumstances, it was due from him that he should show himself
prominently where business was going forward, and give additional
value by his presence to every vote for Transome. With this view he
got a half-pint bottle filled with his peculiar kind of "sack," and
hastened back to the market-place, feeling good-natured and
patronizing toward all political parties, and only so far partial as his
family bound him to be.
But a disposition to concentrate at that extremity of King Street
which issued in the market-place, was not universal among the
increasing crowd. Some of them seemed attracted toward another
nucleus at the other extremity of King Street, near the Seven Stars.
This was Garstin's chief house, where his committee sat, and it was
also a point which must necessarily be passed by many voters
entering the town on the eastern side. It seemed natural that the
mazarine colors should be visible here, and that Pack, the tall
"shepherd" of the Sproxton men, should be seen moving to and fro
where there would be a frequent opportunity of cheering the voters
for a gentleman who had the chief share in the Sproxton mines. But
the side lanes and entries out of King Street were numerous enough
to relieve any pressure if there was need to make way. The lanes
had a distinguished reputation. Two of them had odors of brewing;
one had a side entrance to Mr. Tiliot's wine and spirit vaults; up
another Mr. Muscat's cheeses were frequently being unloaded; and
even some of the entries had those cheerful suggestions of plentiful
provision which were among the characteristics of Treby.
Between ten and eleven the voters came in more rapid
succession, and the whole scene became spirited. Cheers, sarcasms,
and oaths, which seemed to have a flavor of wit for many hearers,
were beginning to be reinforced by more practical demonstrations,
dubiously jocose. There was a disposition in the crowd to close and
hem in the way for voters, either going or coming, until they had
paid some kind of toll. It was difficult to see who set the example in
the transition from words to deeds. Some thought it was due to
Jacob Cuff, a Tory charity-man, who was a well-known ornament of
the pothouse, and gave his mind much leisure for amusing devices;
but questions of origination in stirring periods are notoriously hard to
settle. It is by no means necessary in human things that there
should be only one beginner. This, however, is certain—that Mr.
Chubb, who wished it to be noticed that he voted for Garstin solely,
was one of the first to get rather more notice than he wished, and
that he had his hat knocked off and crushed in the interest of
Debarry by Tories opposed to coalition. On the other hand, some
said it was at the same time that Mr. Pink, the saddler, being stopped
on his way and made to declare that he was going to vote for
Debarry, got himself well chalked as to his coat, and pushed up an
entry, where he remained the prisoner of terror combined with the
want of any back outlet, and never gave his vote that day.
The second Tory joke was performed with much gusto. The
majority of the Transome tenants came in a body from the Ram Inn,
with Mr. Banks, the bailiff, leading them. Poor Goffe was the last of
them, and his worn melancholy look and forward-leaning gait gave
the jocose Cuff the notion that the farmer was not what he called
"compus." Mr. Goffe was cut off from his companions and hemmed
in: asked, by voices with hot breath close to his ear, how many
horses he had, how many cows, how many fat pigs; then jostled
from one to another, who made trumpets with their hands, and
deafened him by telling him to vote for Debarry. In this way the
melancholy Goffe was hustled on till he was at the polling-booth,
filled with confused alarms, the immediate alarm being that of
having to go back in still worse fashion than he had come. Arriving
in this way after the other tenants had left, he astonished all hearers
who knew him for a tenant of the Transomes by saying "Debarry,"
and was jostled back trembling amid shouts of laughter.
By stages of this kind the fun grew faster, and was in danger of
getting rather serious. The Tories began to feel that their jokes were
returned by others of a heavier sort, and that the main strength of
the crowd was not on the side of sound opinion, but might come to
be on the side of sound cudgelling and kicking. The navvies and
pitmen in dishabille seemed to be multiplying, and to be clearly not
belonging to the party of Order. The shops were freely resorted to
for various forms of playful missiles and weapons; and news came to
the magistrates, watching from the large window of the Marquis,
that a gentleman coming in on horseback at the other end of the
street to vote for Garstin had had his horse turned round and
frightened into a headlong gallop out of it again.
Mr. Crow and his subordinates, and all the special constables, felt
that it was necessary to make some energetic effort, or else every
voter would be intimidated and the poll must be adjourned. The
rector determined to get on horseback and go amidst the crowd with
the constables; and he sent a message to Mr. Lingon, who was at
the Ram, calling on him to do the same. "Sporting Jack" was sure
the good fellows meant no harm, but he was courageous enough to
face any bodily dangers, and rode out in his brown leggings and
colored bandana, speaking persuasively.
It was nearly twelve o'clock when this sally was made: the
constables and magistrates tried the most pacific measures, and
they seemed to succeed. There was a rapid thinning of the crowd:
the most boisterous disappeared, or seemed to do so by becoming
quiet; missiles ceased to fly, and a sufficient way was cleared for
voters along King Street. The magistrates returned to their quarters,
and the constables took convenient posts of observation. Mr. Wace,
who was one of Debarry's committee, had suggested to the rector
that it might be wise to send for the military from Duffield, with
orders that they should station themselves at Hathercote, three
miles off: there was so much property in the town that it would be
better to make it secure against risks. But the rector felt that this
was not the part of a moderate and wise magistrate, unless the
signs of riot recurred. He was a brave man, and fond of thinking that
his own authority sufficed for the maintenance of the general good
in Treby.
CHAPTER XXXII.
—Mrs. Browning.
Felix Holt, seated at his work without his pupils, who had asked
for a holiday with a notion that the wooden booths promised some
sort of show, noticed about eleven o'clock that the noises which
reached him from the main street were getting more and more
tumultuous. He had long seen bad auguries for this election, but,
like all people who dread the prophetic wisdom that ends in desiring
the fulfillment of its own evil forebodings, he had checked himself
with remembering that, though many conditions were possible which
might bring on violence, there were just as many which might avert
it. There would, perhaps, be no other mischief than what he was
already certain of. With these thoughts he sat down quietly to his
work, meaning not to vex his soul by going to look on at things he
would fain have made different if he could. But he was of a fiber that
vibrated too strongly to the life around him to shut himself away in
quiet, even from suffering and irremediable wrong. As the noises
grew louder, and wrought more and more strongly on his
imagination, he was obliged to lay down his delicate wheel-work. His
mother came from her turnip-paring, in the kitchen, where little Job
was her companion, to observe that they must be killing everybody
in the High Street, and that the election, which had never been
before at Treby, must have come for a judgment; that there were
mercies where you didn't look for them, and that she thanked God in
His wisdom for making her live up a back street.
Felix snatched his cap and rushed out. But when he got to the
turning into the market-place the magistrates were already on
horseback there, the constables were moving about, and Felix
observed that there was no strong spirit of resistance to them. He
stayed long enough to see the partial dispersion of the crowd and
the restoration of tolerable quiet, and then went back to Mrs. Holt to
tell her that there was nothing to fear now; he was going out again,
and she must not be in any anxiety at his absence. She might set by
his dinner for him.
Felix had been thinking of Esther and her probable alarm at the
noises that must have reached her more distinctly than they had
reached him, for Malthouse Yard was removed but a little way from
the main street. Mr. Lyon was away from home, having been called
to preach charity sermons and attend meetings in a distant town;
and Esther, with the plaintive Lyddy for her sole companion, was not
cheerfully circumstanced. Felix had not been to see her yet since her
father's departure, but to-day he gave way to new reasons.
"Miss Esther was in the garret," Lyddy said, trying to see what was
going on. But before she was fetched she came running down the
stairs, drawn by the knock at the door, which had shaken the small
dwelling.
"I am so thankful to see you," she said, eagerly. "Pray come in."
When she had shut the parlor door behind them, Felix said, "I
suspected that you might have been made anxious by the noises. I
came to tell you that things are quiet now. Though, indeed, you can
hear that they are."
"I was frightened," said Esther. "The shouting and roaring of rude
men is so hideous. It is a relief to me that my father is not at home
—that he is out of the reach of any danger he might have fallen into
if he had been here. But I gave you credit for being in the midst of
the danger," she added, smiling, with a determination not to show
much feeling. "Sit down and tell me what has happened."
They sat down at the extremities of the old black sofa, and Felix
said—
"To tell you the truth, I had shut myself up, and tried to be as
indifferent to the election as if I'd been one of the fishes in the Lapp,
till the noises got too strong for me. But I only saw the tail end of
the disturbance. The poor noisy simpletons seemed to give way
before the magistrates and the constables. I hope nobody has been
much hurt. The fear is that they may turn out again by-and-by; their
giving way so soon may not be altogether a good sign. There's a
great number of heavy fellows in the town. If they go and drink
more, the last end may be worse than the first. However——"
Felix broke off, as if this talk was futile, clasped his hands behind
his head, and, leaning backward, looked at Esther, who was looking
at him.
"May I stay here a little while?" he said, after a moment, which
seemed long.
"Pray do," said Esther, coloring. To relieve herself she took some
work and bowed her head over her stitching. It was in reality a little
heaven to her that Felix was there, but she saw beyond it—saw that
by-and-by he would be gone, and that they should be farther on
their way, not toward meeting, but parting. His will was
impregnable. He was a rock, and she was no more to him than the
white clinging mist-cloud.
"I wish I could be sure that you see things just as I do," he said
abruptly, after a minute's silence.
"I am sure you see them much more wisely than I do!" said
Esther, almost bitterly, without looking up.
"There are some people one must wish to judge truly. Not to wish
it would be mere hardness. I know you think I am a man without
feeling—at least, without strong affections. You think I love nothing
but my own resolutions."
"Suppose I reply in the same sort of strain?" said Esther, with a
little toss of the head.
"How?"
"Why, that you think me a shallow woman, incapable of believing
what is best in you, setting down everything that is too high for me
as a deficiency."
"Don't parry what I say. Answer me." There was an expression of
painful beseeching in the tone with which Felix said this. Esther let
her work fall on her lap and looked at him, but she was unable to
speak.
"I want you to tell me—once—that you know it would be easier to
me to give myself up to loving and being loved, as other men do,
when they can, than to——"
This breaking-off in speech was something quite new in Felix. For
the first time he had lost his self-possession, and turned his eyes
away. He was at variance with himself. He had begun what he felt he
ought not to finish.
Esther, like a woman as she was—a woman waiting for love, never
able to ask for it—had her joy in these signs of her power; but they
made her generous, not chary, as they might have done if she had
had a pettier disposition. She said, with deep yet timid earnestness—
"What you have chosen to do has only convinced me that your
love would be the better worth having."
All the finest part of Esther's nature trembled in those words. To
be right in great memorable moments is perhaps the thing we need
most desire for ourselves.
Felix as quick as lightning turned his look upon her again, and,
leaning forward, took her sweet hand and held it to his lips some
moments before he let it fall again and raised his head.
"We shall always be the better for thinking of each other," he said,
leaning his elbow on the back of the sofa, and supporting his head
as he looked at her with calm sadness. "This thing can never come
to me twice over. It is my knighthood. That was always a business of
great cost."
He smiled at her, but she sat biting her inner lip and pressing her
hands together. She desired to be worthy of what she reverenced in
Felix, but the inevitable renunciation was too difficult. She saw
herself wandering through the future weak and forsaken. The
charming sauciness was all gone from her face, but the memory of it
made this childlike dependent sorrow all the more touching.
"Tell me what you would——" Felix burst out, leaning nearer to
her; but the next instant he started up, went to the table, took his
cap in his hand and came in front of her.
"Good-bye," he said, very gently, not daring to put out his hand.
But Esther put up hers instead of speaking. He just pressed it and
then went away.
She heard the doors close behind him, and felt free to be
miserable. She cried bitterly. If she might have married Felix Holt,
she could have been a good woman. She felt no trust that she could
ever be good without him.
Felix reproached himself. He would have done better not to speak
in that way. But the prompting to which he had chiefly listened had
been the desire to prove to Esther that he set a high value on her
feelings. He could not help seeing that he was very important to her;
and he was too simple and sincere a man to ape a sort of humility
which would not have made him any the better if he had possessed
it. Such pretences turn our lives into sorry dramas. And Felix wished
Esther to know that her love was dear to him as the beloved dead
are dear. He felt that they must not marry—that they would ruin
each other's lives. But he had longed for her to know fully that his
will to be always apart from her was renunciation, not an easy
preference. In this he was thoroughly generous; and yet, now some
subtle, mysterious conjuncture of impressions and circumstances
had made him speak, he questioned the wisdom of what he had
done. Express confessions give definiteness to memories that might
more easily melt away without; and Felix felt for Esther's pain as the
strong soldier, who can march on hungering without fear that he
shall faint, feels for the young brother—the maiden-cheeked
conscript whose load is too heavy for him.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
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