He shook his head violently, like an irritated animal.

"What do you mean? I do not understand. I understand nothing. Speak
clearly. There is something between us. I do not know what. I demand
to know what it is. What is it?"

"There is the fact that I am not a woman sure of herself, and that you
should not rely on me. No, you should not rely on me. I had promised
nothing--and then, if I had promised, what are words?"

"You do not love me. Oh, you love me no more! I can see it. But it is
so much the worse for you! I love you. You should not have given
yourself to me. Do not think that you can take yourself back. I love
you and I shall keep you. So you thought you could get out of it very
quietly? Listen a moment. You have done everything to make me love you,
to attach me to you, to make it impossible for me to live without you.

"Six weeks ago you asked for nothing better. You were everything for me,
I was everything for you. And now you desire suddenly that I should know
you no longer; that you should be to me a stranger, a lady whom one meets
in society. Ah, you have a fine audacity! Have I dreamed? All the past
is a dream? I invented it all? Oh, there can be no doubt of it. You
loved me. I feel it still. Well, I have not changed. I am what I was;
you have nothing to complain of. I have not betrayed you for other
women. It isn't credit that I claim. I could not have done it. When
one has known you, one finds the prettiest women insipid. I never have
had the idea of deceiving you. I have always acted well toward you. Why
should you not love me? Answer! Speak! Say you love me still. Say it,
since it is true. Come, Therese, you will feel at once that you love as
you loved me formerly in the little nest where we were so happy. Come!"