"Ah, how weak I have been," he said to himself, with a last bitter, instinctive revolt. "How weak I am."
She saw and understood.
"We must be generous," she said, changing her voice quickly to gentleness. "He has been pained enough already. He alone will suffer. And if you knew his name it would only make you unhappy."
He still rebelled, but suddenly to him came a thought which at first he was ashamed to express.
"He doesn't know?"
She lied.
"No."
"He's still waiting—there?"
"Yes."
"Ah, he's waiting," he said to himself.