What impressed me most was that she was interested and engrossed more, it seemed, in the malady than in the man himself.
And yet she baffled me even when I had come to this conclusion.
During most of his delirium she remained almost impassive, as if she had schooled herself to be calm and strong in nerve; but one afternoon she did a thing that upset all my opinions of her for a moment.

Looking straight at her with staring, unconscious eyes, he half rose in his bed, and said in a low, bitter tone: "I hate you.

I once loved you--but I hate you now!" Then he laughed scornfully, and fell back on the pillow.

She had been sitting very quietly, musing.

His action had been unexpected, and had broken upon a silence.