In her distracted mind there was a sort of crazy hope that he would at last give them to her to burn; she might even perhaps have brought herself to take them away.
'That is childish,' she said.

'You know them by heart; the burning of the paper would alter nothing.' 'Then I can say and do no more.' It had been like a rending of his heartstrings to offer to destroy these memories of Emily, though he at the same time persuaded himself that, once done, he would be a stronger and a happier man.

In truth, they had made the chief strength of the link between him and the past; every day they had reminded him how much of the old feeling lingered in his being; the sanctity with which these relics were invested testified to the holiness of the worship which had bequeathed them.

He had not opened the case since his betrothal to Beatrice, and scarcely a day passed that he did not purpose hiding it somewhere away for ever--not destroying.
Beatrice's answer to his offer caused him half to repent that he had made it.

He turned away from her.
She, after looking at the pocket-book still for some moments, seemed to force herself away.