“Being worthy, sincere, incapable of treachery, incapable of deceit....”
Quentin fell silent, got up, and returned to his room. There he spent the entire afternoon pacing up and down like a wild beast in a cage.
At supper he said nothing; nor could he eat, no matter how hard he tried. As he rose from the table, he said in a voice choked with emotion:
“Listen, Remedios.”
“What is it?” she asked, perceiving his emotion without knowing the cause for it.
“I am going away.”
“You are going, Quentin? Why?”
“Because I am not sincere, nor am I capable of self-sacrifice and abnegation.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No. I am a deceiver, Remedios. I have lied so many times that now I do not know when I am lying, and when I am telling the truth.”