There Is Always A Pleasure In Unravelling

Mr Thornton Would Rather Have Heard That She Was Suffering The Natural Sorrow. In The First Place, There Was Selfishness Enough In Him To Have Taken Pleasure In The Idea That His Great Love Might Come In To Comfort And Console Her; Much The Same Kind Of Strange Passionate Pleasure Which Comes Stinging Through A Mother's Heart, When Her Drooping Infant Nestles Close To Her, And Is Dependent Upon Her For Everything.

A Solitary Life Cherishes Mere Fancies Until They Become Manias.

Even Before He Left The Room, — And Certainly, Not Five Minutes After, The Clear Conviction Dawned Upon Her, Shined Bright Upon Her, That He Did Love Her; That He Had Loved Her; That He Would Love Her. And She Shrank And Shuddered As Under The Fascination Of Some Great Power.

If You Dare To Injure Her In The Least, I Will Await You Where No Policeman Can Step In Between. And God Shall Judge Between Us Two.

There Is Nothing Like Wounded Affection For Giving Poignancy To Anger.