“Is that all?” he asked.
“It is all, John: is it not enough?” I answered.
“It is enough,” he cried, with an oath that frightened me, and started to his feet. The hurricane was awake.
I threw my arms round him.
“Where are you going?” I said.
“To her” he answered.
“What for?”
“To kill her,” he said—then threw himself on the ground, and lay motionless at my feet.
I kept silence. I thought with myself he was fighting the nature his mother had given him.
He lay still for about two minutes, then quietly rose.