He knew what he was at that moment, as you and I shall never be able to know him, eavesdrop how we may.
He flung himself down in a blaeberry-bed, and lay there doggedly, his weak mouth tightly closed.

A great silence reigned; no, not a great silence, for he continued to hear the cry: "Oh, how could you hurt your Grizel so!" She scarcely knew that she had said it; but to him who knew what she had been, and what he had changed her into, and for what alone she was to blame, there was an unconscious pathos in it that was terrible.

It was the epitome of all that was Grizel, all that was adorable and all that was pitiful in her.

It rang in his mind like a bell of doom.

He believed its echo would not be quite gone from his ears when he died.