His heart was torn in two ways.
He wished to take the letters from their case and destroy them at once; probably it was masculine pride which now kept him from doing it.
'I think you must believe what I say, Beatrice,' was his answer.

'I am not capable of deliberately lying to you.' 'You are not.

But you are capable of deceiving yourself; I accuse you of nothing more.

You have deceived yourself, and I have been the cause of it; for I had so little of woman's pride that I let you see my love; it was as if I begged for your love in return.

My own heart should have taught me better; there can be no second love.