Your eye is vacant--your heart, it beats sadly and hurriedly beneath my hand, as if there were gloomy and vexatious thoughts within." "And should I not be sad, Mark, and should you not be sad?
Gloom and sorrow befit our situations alike; though for you I feel more than for myself.

I think not so much of our parting, as of your misfortune in having partaken of this crime.

There is to me but little occasion for grief in the temporary separation which I am sure will precede our final union.

But this dreadful deed, Mark--it is this that makes me sad.

The knowledge that you, whom I thought too gentle wantonly to crush the crawling insect, should have become the slayer of men--of innocent men, too--makes my heart bleed within, and my eyes fill; and when I think of it, as indeed I now think of little else, and feel that its remorse and all its consequences must haunt you for many years, I almost think, with my father, that it would be better we should see each other no more.