"I know you could never feel the same toward me after you found out--" Again she was dabbing at her eyes, this time with the sleeve of her jacket.

A suffering woman stood before him.

She who had always shown herself so competent to meet trouble with laughing looks was being overthrown by this nameless horror.

Suddenly he knew that to him it didn't matter so very much what crime she had been guilty of.
"I don't care what you've done," he said, his own voice husky.

She continued to weep.
He felt himself grow hot.