In Which We Burn All Bridges

Helena sat silent, looking fixedly ahead through the glass at the
driver's back; nor did I find words myself. In truth, I was as one now
carried forward on the wings of adventure itself, with small plans,
and no duty beyond taking each situation as it might later come. A
dull feeling that I had sinned beyond forgiveness came upon me, a
conviction that my brutality to one thus innocent and tender had
passed all limits of atonement. She could never forgive me now, I
felt; and what was almost as intolerable in the reflection, I could
not forgive myself, could not find any specious argument longer to
justify myself in thus harrying the sensibilities of a woman such as
this one who now sat beside me in this mad midnight errand, proud,
pale and silent. Slowly I sought to adjust myself to the thought of
defeat, to the feeling that my presumption now had o'er-leaped itself.
Yes, I must say good-by to her, must release her; and this time, as I
well knew, forever.

But, though I turned toward her half a dozen times in these few
minutes, she made no response to what she must have known was my
demand upon her attention. I gathered her gloves for her, and her
flowers, but she only took them, her lips parting in courtesy, not in
warmth, and no sound came to my ears, straining always to hear her
voice, a pleasant sound in a world of discords ever. I even touched
her arm, suddenly, impulsively. "Helena!" But she, not knowing that I
meant to give her liberty, though over a dead heart, shrank as though
I had added physical insult to my verbal taunts. Anyway I turned, I
was fast in the net of circumstance, fanged by the springs of
misapprehension.... Well, then, but one thing remained. She had said
it was a man's place to fight, and so now it would be! I must go on,
and take my punishment until justice had been done. Justice and my own
success I no longer confused in my own mind; but in my soul was the
grim resolution that justice should first be done to one human soul,
even though that chanced to be my own. After that, I should get her
again in the hands of her friends and myself; indeed, disappear beyond
all seeking, in parts of the world best known to myself. If I myself
were fair, why should not fairness as well be given to me?