character
which made him anything but a lover to be contemned. She dreaded him,
and could not turn away as from one who tormented her out of mere
ill-breeding.

'I cannot ask you to pardon me,' he returned, 'for however often you
asked me to leave you, I should pay no heed. I am here because I can't
help myself; I mean what I say--I can't, I can't help it! Since you told
me there was no hope, I seem to have been in hell. These are not words
to use to you--I know it. It isn't that I don't respect you, but because
I must speak what I feel. Look--I am worn out with suffering; I feel as
if it would take but a little more to kill me, strong man as I am. You
don't think I find a pleasure in coming and facing that look you have? I
don't know that I ever saw the man I couldn't meet, but before you I
feel--I can't put it into words, but I feel I should like to hide my
face. Still, I have come, I have followed you here. It's more than I can
do to give you up.'

At the last words he half sobbed. Her fear of him would not allow Emily
to feel deep distress, but she was awed by the terrible evidence of what
he endured. She could not at once find words for reply.

'Will you sit down?' he said. 'I will stand here, but I have more to say
to you before I go.'

'Why should you say more?' Emily urged. 'Can you not think how very
painful it is to hear you speak in this way? What purpose can it serve
to speak to me when I may not listen?'

'You must listen. I can't be sent away as you would another man; no
other on earth can love you as I do, no one. No one would do for you all
that I would do. My love gives me a claim upon you. It is you that have
brought me to this state; a woman owes a man something who is driven mad
by her. I have a right to be here and to say all I feel.'

He was struggling with a dread of the words he had come to utter; a wild
hope sprang in him that he might yet win her in other ways; he used
language recklessly, half believing that his arguments would seem of
force. His passion was in the death-grapple with reason and humanity.

'If your regard for me is so strong,' Emily replied, 'should you not
shrink from causing me pain? And indeed you have no such right as you
claim. Have I in any way sought to win your affection? Is it manly to
press upon me a suit which you know it is out of my power to favour? You
say you respect me; your words are not consistent with respect. I owe
you nothing, Mr. Dagworthy, and it