He had made up his mind never to see her again, and she had entrapped him into an interview.

He had made up his mind to write, and there she stood forcing him to speak.

The sum of her offenses against him was now complete.

If there had ever been the faintest hope of her raising even a passing pity in his heart, that hope would have been annihilated now.
She failed to understand the full meaning of his silence.

She made her excuses, poor soul, for venturing back to Windygates--her excuses to the man whose purpose at that moment was to throw her helpless on the world.
"Pray forgive me for coming here," she said.