"I am sorry I ever saw you!" The bitterness of lovers' quarrels is in ratio with their passion for each other.

These two loved with complete abandon, consequently each could wound the other maddeningly.
But the plant of their love, vigorous as it was, was not rooted in old acquaintance.

When the top withered under the blasts of anger there was no store of life below.

Now each was secretly terrified by the strangeness of the being to whom he had yielded his soul.
Ambrose, wild with pain, no longer recked what he said.

"You make a man mad!" he cried.