Do I want to live?
What kind of living will it be when you--oh, God! would _you_ like to live with your soul in the grave ?' 'Let me alone.

Let me alone,' sobbed Catherine.

'If I've done wrong, I'm dying for it.

It is enough! You left me too: but I won't upbraid you! I forgive you.

Forgive me!' 'It is hard to forgive, and to look at those eyes, and feel those wasted hands,' he answered.