I spoke in gibes to make you speak--somehow to strike--to reach you.

To-morrow it will be too late!" And before, almost, she knew that he had moved, he had stooped forward, caught a fold of her dress, pressed it to his lips, and dropped it.
"Don't speak," he said brokenly, springing up, and standing before her in her path.

"You shall forgive me--I will compel it! See! here we are on this moonlit space of floor, alone, in the night.

Very probably we shall never meet again, except as strangers.

Put off convention, and speak to me, soul to soul! You are not happy altogether in this marriage.