Her love for him was intense beyond anything he had imagined in woman; Emily had never seemed to him possessed with so vehement a passion.

Indeed he had often doubted whether Emily's was a passionate nature; at times she was almost cold--appeared so, in his thought of her--and never had she given way to that self-forgetful ardour which was so common in Beatrice.
Sweat broke out upon his forehead as he saw the tragic issues to which his life was tending.

There was no retreat, save by a second act of apostasy so unspeakably shameful that the brand of it would drive him to self-destruction.

He had made his choice, or had been driven upon it by the powers which ruled his destiny; it only remained to have the courage of his resolve and to defy consequences.

At least it was in no less a cause than that of his life's one love.