"What good do you think it would do if I did, Madelon ?" he said, with a strange sadness in his voice.
She looked at him.
"I shall not die of the wound.

You can't escape me by prison or a disgraceful death, and as for me, do you think it would make any difference to me if all the village pointed at you, Madelon ?" Madelon looked at him as if she were frozen.
"All the way to be set loose from your promise is by your own breaking it," said Lot.
"I will keep my promise," said Madelon, shutting her lips hard upon her words.

She turned away.
"Madelon," said Lot.
She went towards the door as if she did not hear.
"Madelon." She turned her white face slightly towards him and paused.
"Won't you come here to me a moment ?" "I cannot until I am driven to it!" she cried out, passion leaping into her voice like fire.

"I cannot go near you, Lot Gordon!" She opened the door, and then she heard a sob.

She hesitated a second, then looked around; and Lot Gordon's thin body was curled about in his chair and quivering with sobs like any child's.
Madelon closed the door, and went back and stood over him.