"That is better than resentment." "I hate you most, I think," she said with a tremulousness he did not perceive, "when you say you do not care to go back to Plattville." "Did I say it ?" "It is in every word, and it is true; you don't care to go back there." "Yes, it is true; I don't." "You want to leave the place where you do good; to leave those people who love you, who were ready to die to avenge your hurt!" she exclaimed vehemently.

"Oh, I say that is shameful!" "Yes, I know," he returned gravely.

"I am ashamed." "Don't say that!" she cried.

"Don't say you are ashamed of it.

Do you suppose I do not understand the dreariness it has been for you?
Don't you know that I see it is a horror to you, that it brings back your struggle with those beasts in the dark, and revivifies all your suffering, merely to think of it ?" Her turns and sudden contradictions left him tangled in a maze; he could not follow, but must sit helpless to keep pace with her, while the sheer happiness of being with her tingled through his veins.