He was numb with his growing misery and the struggle in his mind: he must leave her--the situation was unendurable--he could not stay, because in her present softened mood it was possible that if he lost control of himself and caressed her she might yield to him; and, then, he knew no resolutions on earth could hold him from taking her to his heart.

And she must never really be his wife.

The bliss of it might be all that was divine at first, but there would be always the hideous skeleton beneath, ready to peep out and mock at them: and then if they should have children?
They were both so young that would be sure to happen; and this thought, which had once, in that very room, in his happy musings, given him so much joy, now caused him to quiver with extra pain.

For a woman with such a background should not be the mother of a Tancred of Wrayth.
Tristram was no Puritan, but the ingrained pride in his old name he could not eliminate from his blood.

So he kept himself with an iron reserve.