Who can say?
On mine, you and your memory will be a curse,--lasting all my lifetime!' And so the thunderbolt had been hurled.
And it fell as a thunderbolt.

What she had expected had not been at all like to this.

She had known that he would rebuke her; but, feeling strong in her own innocence and her own purity, knowing or thinking that she knew that the fault had all been his, not believing--having got rid of all belief--that he still loved her, she had fancied that his rebuke would be unjust, cruel, but bearable.

Nay; she had thought that she could almost triumph over him with a short word of reply.

She had expected from him reproach, but not love.