I wished to put you in the wrong." "You did it all very well.

You put me admirably in the wrong." "The only justification for my doing it at all was my doing it well," said Angela.
"You were justified then! You must have hated me fiercely." She turned her back to him and stood looking at the fire again.
"Yes, there are some things that I did that can be accounted for only by an intense aversion." She said this so naturally that in spite of a certain theory that was touched upon a few pages back, Bernard was a good deal bewildered.

He rose from the sofa where he had been lounging and went and stood beside her a moment.

Then he passed his arm round her waist and murmured an almost timorous-- "Really ?" "I don't know what you are trying to make me say!" she answered.
He looked down at her for a moment as he held her close to him.
"I don't see, after all, why I should wish to make you say it.

It would only make my remorse more acute." She was musing, with her eyes on the fire, and for a moment she made no answer; then, as if her attention were returning-- "Are you still talking about your remorse ?" she asked.
"You see I put it very strongly." "That I was a horrid creature ?" "That you were not a woman to marry." "Ah, my poor Bernard," said Angela, "I can't attempt to prove to you that you are not inconsistent!" The month of September drew to a close, and she consented to fix a day for their wedding.