"Why do you ask me such a monstrous thing? You! you!"
Something in his manner and appearance seemed to disturb her more than anything which had gone before. She drew farther away from him, and closer to the stile.
"You forced me to ask you."
"I forced you to ask me--that!"
"Why do you look at me so? Do you wish to frighten me?"
"Do you think I didn't see? Have you forgotten?"
"See? Forgotten? What do you mean?"
"Oh, woman! that you should be so young and yet so old; so ignorant and yet so full of knowledge; that you should seem a shrine of all the virtues, and be a thing all evil!"
"Mr Morice, why do you look at me like that! you make me afraid!"
"Would I could make you afraid--of being the thing you are!"