I see you no longer love me as you did." Her arms rose in anguish; but he went on ruthlessly: "You will never persuade me that you do; I shall never believe it again." I suppose it was a pitiable thing about Grizel--it was something he had discovered weeks ago and marvelled over--that nothing distressed her so much as the implication that she could love him less.

She knew she could not; but that he should think it possible was the strangest woe to her.

It seemed to her to be love's only tragedy.

We have seen how difficult it was for Grizel to cry.

When she said "How could you hurt your Grizel so!" she had not cried, nor when she knew that if she went back to him her self-respect must remain behind.