Henry James, Scribner's Monthly (1876)
“ Where is Elizabeth?" "You cannot see her!" "I cannot see her?" "It is impossible. It is her wish," said Mrs. Ingram. Crawford stood staring, his eyes distended with grief, and rage, and helpless wonder. I have never seen a man so thoroughly agitated, but I have also never seen a man exert such an effort at self-control. He sat down; and then, after a moment—"What have I done?" he asked. Mr. Ingram walked away to the window, and stood closely examining the texture of the drawn curtains. "You have done nothing, my dear Mr. Crawford," said Mrs. Ingram. "We accuse you of nothing. ”
