It cut the knot, and left him with a memory of Eve that would not efface her dishonouring weakness.
Late at night, he walked about the streets near his home, debating with himself whether she would act as she spoke, or had only sought to frighten him with a threat.

And still he hoped that her resolve was sincere.

He could bear that conclusion of their story better than any other--unless it were her death.

Better a thousand times than her marriage with Narramore.
In the morning, fatigue gave voice to conscience.

He had bidden her go, when, perchance, a word would have checked her.