Thomas Hardy,
Desperate Remedies — 4. AFTERNOON
(1871)
“ But I was too late.''But, Edward, what's that, what's that!' she cried, in an agony of reproach. 'Why did you leave me to return to her? Why did you write me that cruel, cruel letter that nearly killed me!''Cytherea! Why, you had grown to love--like--Mr. Manston, and how could you be anything to me--or care for me? Surely I acted naturally?''O no--never! I loved you--only you--not him--always you!--till lately. . . . I try to love him now.''But that can't be correct! Miss Aldclyffe told me that you wanted to hear no more of me--proved it to me!' said Edward. ”
