With an elbow on each side of it, and my hands clasped before my eyes, I delivered myself up to silent weeping.

But Arthur was not asleep: at the first slight sob, he raised his head and looked round, impatiently exclaiming, 'What are you crying for, Helen?
What the deuce is the matter now ?' 'I'm crying for you, Arthur,' I replied, speedily drying my tears; and starting up, I threw myself on my knees before him, and clasping his nerveless hand between my own, continued: 'Don't you know that you are a part of myself?
And do you think you can injure and degrade yourself, and I not feel it ?' 'Degrade myself, Helen ?' 'Yes, degrade! What have you been doing all this time ?' 'You'd better not ask,' said he, with a faint smile.
'And you had better not tell; but you cannot deny that you have degraded yourself miserably.

You have shamefully wronged yourself, body and soul, and me too; and I can't endure it quietly, and I won't!' 'Well, don't squeeze my hand so frantically, and don't agitate me so, for heaven's sake! Oh, Hattersley! you were right: this woman will be the death of me, with her keen feelings and her interesting force of character.

There, there, do spare me a little.' 'Arthur, you must repent!' cried I, in a frenzy of desperation, throwing my arms around him and burying my face in his bosom.

'You shall say you are sorry for what you have done!' 'Well, well, I am.' 'You are not! you'll do it again.' 'I shall never live to do it again if you treat me so savagely,' replied he, pushing me from him.