In any conversation that we may have, or in any correspondence--" "Oh, Mr Grey, do not ask me to write." "Listen to me.

Should there be any on either side, there shall be no idea of any wrong done." "But I have done you wrong;--great wrong." "No, Alice; I will not have it so.

When I asked you to accept my hand,--begging the greatest boon which it could ever come to my lot to ask from a fellow-mortal,--I knew well how great was your goodness to me when you told me that it should be mine.

Now that you refuse it, I know also that you are good, thinking that in doing so you are acting for my welfare,--thinking more of my welfare than of your own." "Oh yes, yes; it is so, Mr Grey; indeed it is so." "Believing that, how can I talk of wrong?
That you are wrong in your thinking on this subject,--that your mind has become twisted by false impressions,--that I believe.

But I cannot therefore love you less,--nor, so believing, can I consider myself to be injured.