"Sorrow!" he echoed, interrupting her and springing to his feet with an impassioned gesture--"Woman,--genius,--angel, whatever you are, do not speak of _one_ sorrow for me! I have a thousand thousand sorrows!--aye a million million, that are as little flames about my heart, and as deeply seated as the centres of the universe! The foul and filthy crimes of men,--the base deceits and cruelties of women,--the ruthless, murderous ingratitude of children,--the scorn of good, the martyrdom of intellect, the selfishness, the avarice, the sensuality of human life, the hideous blasphemy and sin of the creature to the Creator--these are _my_ endless sorrows!--these keep me wretched and in chains, when I would fain be free. These create hell around me, and endless torture,--these bind and crush me and pervert my being till I become what I dare not name to myself, or to others. And yet, ... as the eternal God is my witness, ... I do not think I am as bad as the worst man living! I may tempt--but I do not pursue,--I take the lead in many lives, yet I make the way I go so plain that those who follow me do so by their own choice and free will more than by my persuasion!" He paused,--then continued in a softer tone--"You look afraid of me,--but be assured you never had less cause for terror. You have truth and purity--I honour both. You will have none of my advice or assistance in the making of your life's history,--to-night therefore we part, to meet no more on earth. Never again, Mavis Clare!--no, not through all your quiet days of sweet and contented existence will I cross your path,--before Heaven I swear it!" "But why?" asked Mavis gently, approaching him now as she spoke, with a soft grace of movement, and laying her hand on his arm--"Why do you speak with such a passion of self-reproach? What dark cloud is on your mind? Surely you have a noble nature,--and I feel that I have wronged you in my thoughts, ... you must forgive me--I have mistrusted you--"