I am glad.

I am glad." "Then it is your revenge?
Very well.

You have it." "No, no! You must not say that.

Believe me, I want you to feel how--how much I admire--no, wait,--how much I admire any man who could show your courage.

It's not revenge, it's not vanity--" He waited, his soul in his eyes, hoping for more than this; but she fell silent again.
"Then it is the end," he said.
He held up his fingers, scarred to the bone.
"That's where I bruised my hands when I clenched on the table, yonder.