"You thought I knew," he repeated, his colour becoming a dull purple.
"You thought I knew. And I thought your shrinking from me was but maiden
modesty, and that if you did not love me you were going to love me. Why,
when you trembled in my arms as I lifted you through the door I thought
it was love; and all the time it was horror and repulsion. What a fool I
have been! But, by Heaven--I have been fooled too!"
His expression became so wild and furious that I shrank back in my chair
and covered my face with my hands.
"You needn't be afraid of me," he said; "that is all over. Come: there
is nothing more to see. You had better go home."
He had regained control over himself, although his features still
worked and his eyes were bloodshot. Indeed, he had such a look of
suffering that I should have been sorry for him no matter how much I
hated him, and now, curiously enough, my hatred seemed to have passed
away.
"What are you going to do?" I asked.
"Send you home," he replied.
"But you are coming with me?"
"No. I shall not trouble Aghadoe any more by my presence. You will be
quite safe with the Chauffeur."
"But what are you going to do?"
"I am not going to cut my throat, if that's what you are afraid of.
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