"Well; first we talked-- You must be patient with me, gentlemen, You see my nerves--they're weakened--but I'll try To tell you all--well then--a glass of water-- At first we talked but trifles. Silences Came on us like great calms between the stir Of ineffectual breezes, like this day In August growing sultry as the sun Rose upward. She was striving to break down The hard corrosion of my thought, and I Could not surrender. Till at last, I said: 'That day in Paris when you stood revealed Can never be forgotten. Once I killed A love with hatred for a woman who Betrayed me, as you did. And you can kill A love with hatred but you kill your soul While killing love. And so with you I kept All hatred from my heart, but cannot keep A poisonous doubt of you from blood and brain.'... I learned in Paris, (to be clear on this), That after she had given herself to me She fell back in the arms of Gregory Wenner. And here as we were walking I revealed My agony, my anger, emptied out My heart of all its bitterness. At last When she protested it was natural For her to do what she had done, the act As natural as breathing, taking food, Not signifying faithlessness nor love-- Though she admitted had she loved me then She had not done so--I grew tense with rage, A serpent which grows stiff and rears its head To strike its enemy was what I seemed To myself then, and so I said to her In voice controlled and low, but deadly clear, 'What are you but a whore--you are a whore!' Murderous words no doubt, but do you hear She justified herself with Gregory Wenner; Yes, justified herself when she had written And asked forgiveness--yes, brought me out To meet her by the river. And for what? I said you whore, she shook from head to heels, And toppled, but I caught her in my arms, And held her up, she paled, head rolled around, Her eyes set, mouth fell open, all at once I saw that she was dead, or syncope Profound had come upon her. Elenor, What is the matter? Love came back to me, Love there with Death. I laid her on the ground. I found her dead. "If I had any thought There in that awful moment, it was this: To run away, escape, could I maintain An innocent presence there, be clear of fault? And if I had that thought, as I believe, I had no other; all my mind's a blank Until I find myself at one o'clock Disrobing in my room, too full of drink, And trying to remember.