That would be enough; if she should never care for him, if he had nothing more than that, he would be satisfied, and the world might think what it would.

If she would not go with him--well, then he would kill Le Maitre.

His mind was made up; there was nothing left of hesitation or scruple.

He looked at the broad sea and the sunlight and the sky, and made his vow with clenched teeth.

He laughed at the words which had scared him the night before--the names of the crimes which were his alternatives; they were made righteousness to him by the sight of fear in a woman's face.
It is one form of weakness to lay too much stress upon the emotion of another, just as it is weak to take too much heed of our own emotions; but Caius thought the sympathy that carried all before it was strength.
After awhile, waiting became intolerable.