"Adam!"

"Lovely innocence! It is too much! Go away!"

"I will not _stand_ this any longer!" she cried. "I _will_ go
away; but not till I have told you why I have acted as I have."

"It is too late for that! I do not care to hear!"

"Then you _shall_ hear!" she replied. "You shall know that it is
because I have believed you capable of speaking to me as you have
just spoken; believed you at heart unsparing and unjust. You think
I asked you to do what you have done? No! I asked you whether
you would be willing to do it; and when you said you would _not_,
I saw then--by your voice, your eyes, your whole face and manner--that
you _would_. Saw it as plainly at that moment, in spite of your
denial, as I see it now--the cruelty in you, the unfaithfulness,
the willingness to betray. It was for _this_ reason--not because
I heard you refuse, but because I saw you consent--that I could
not forgive you."

She paused abruptly and looked across into my face. What she may
now have read in it I do not know. Then anger swept her on:

"How often had I not heard you bitter and contemptuous towards
people because _they_ are treacherous, cruel! How often have you
talked of _your_ love of nature, of _our_ inhumanity towards lower
creatures! But what have _you_ done?