It was the hardest thing she had ever done.

He hesitated: there was the mean prompting of the spirit, to take her at her word and to set himself free, since she offered him freedom, caring not whether she might repent to-morrow; and there was the instinct of fidelity which in so much dishonour had remained with him through so many years.
"Besides," she said hoarsely, "I do not love you any more.

I would not keep you longer, if I could.

Oh--we shall be friends! But the other--no! Good bye, Bosio--good bye." Something moved him, as she had not meant that anything should.
"I do not believe you," he said.

"You love me still--I will not leave you!" "No, no! I do not--but if you still care at all, save me.