Suppose you were not in love with me?
Suppose you were in love with some other woman ?" "Yes ?" "Suppose you discovered that woman to be utterly unworthy of you?
Suppose you were quite convinced that it was a disgrace to you to waste another thought on her?
Suppose the bare idea of ever marrying such a person made your face burn, only with thinking of it." "Yes ?" "And, suppose, in spite of all that--you couldn't tear her from your heart?
Suppose the feeling she had roused in you (in the time when you believed in her) was not a feeling to be hidden?
Suppose the love this wretch had inspired in you?
Oh, how can I find words to say it in! How can I make a MAN understand that a feeling which horrifies me at myself, can be a feeling that fascinates me at the same time?
It's the breath of my life, Godfrey, and it's the poison that kills me--both in one! Go away! I must be out of my mind to talk as I am talking now.

No! you mustn't leave me--you mustn't carry away a wrong impression.

I must say what is to be said in my own defence.

Mind this! HE doesn't know--he never will know, what I have told you.

I will never see him--I don't care what happens--I will never, never, never see him again! Don't ask me his name! Don't ask me any more! Let's change the subject.