One day Ferragut, with a return of his old affection, and desiring to illuminate Cinta's twilight existence with a pale ray of sunlight, ventured to caress her as in the early days of their marriage.

She drew herself up, modest and offended, as though she had just received an insult.

She escaped from his arms with the energy of one who is repelling an outrage.
Ulysses looked upon a new woman, intensely pale, of an almost olive countenance, the nose curved with wrath and a flash of madness in her eyes.

All that she was guarding in the depths of her thoughts came forth, boiling over, expelled in a hoarse voice charged with tears.
"No, no!...

We shall live together, because you are my husband and God commands that it shall be so; but I no longer love you: I cannot love you....