"No; no one cut you out but yourself. You've shown yourself to me just
as you are, and you're ugly. I _hate_ you!" and I burst into tears.
He knelt down beside me. I was sitting on the edge of the big Morris
chair, and all the while he talked to me I had my face covered with my
hands.
"Listen to me, Nora. I know I've said things to you for which I ought
to be horsewhipped; but I was nearly insane. I am still. I don't know
what to think of you, what to do to you. The thought that _you_, whom
I have cherished as something precious and different from every one
else in my life, have been deceiving me all these months drives me
distracted. I could _kill_ you without the slightest compunction."