“It grieves you to see me distressed, Mr. Wrayburn; it grieves me to see you distressed. I don’t reproach you. Indeed I don’t reproach you. You have not felt this as I feel it, being so different from me, and beginning from another point of view. You have not thought. But I entreat you to think now, think now!”

“What am I to think of?” asked Eugene, bitterly.

“Think of me.”

“Tell me how not to think of you, Lizzie, and you’ll change me altogether.”