'As we are to part so soon, there should be none unkind spoken.' 'I do not know much about kindness,' he replied.

Then he paused and tried to think how best the thunderbolt might be hurled.

'There is hardly room for kindness where there was once so much more than kindness; where there was so much more,--or the pretence of it.' Then he waited again, as though he expected that she should speak.
But she would not speak at all.

If he had aught to say, let him say it.

'Perhaps, Marie, you have in truth forgotten all the promises you once made me ?' Though this was a direct question she would not answer it.