"You have ruined both our lives. Mine is ruined; I am ruined. I shall never be worth anything now. I don't care what becomes of me."
As she still did not answer, he looked up, and their eyes met. Once meeting, they could not quit each other. Diana's gaze was sad enough, but eager with the eagerness of long hunger. His was sharp with pain at first, keen with unreasonable anger; one of the mind's resorts from unbearable torment. Then as he looked it changed and grew soft; and finally, springing up, he went over to where she sat, dropped on his knees before her, and seizing her hands kissed them one after the other till tears began to mingle with the kisses. She was passive; she could not drive him off; she felt that she and he must have this one moment to bury their past in; it was only when her hands were growing wet with his tears that she roused herself to an effort.
"Evan—Evan—listen to me! You mustn't—remember, I am a man's wife."
"How could you?"
"I did not know what I was doing."
"Have you given up loving me?"
"What is the use of talking of it, Evan? I am another man's wife."
"But there are such things as divorces."
"Hush! Do not speak of such a thing."
"I must speak of it. Whom do you love? tell me that first."