But she wanted to win his own self-betrayal out of him.

He could see himself as the fascinated victim, falling to this cajoling, awful woman, the wife of his bosom.

But as well, he had a soul outside himself, which looked on the whole scene with cold revulsion, and which was as unchangeable as time.
"No," he said.

"I don't feel wrong." "You DO!" she said, giving him a sharp, admonitory clutch.

"You DO.
Only you're silly, and obstinate, babyish and silly and obstinate.