But was she herself any
better? Was anybody any better?
'It may all be true, lies and stink and all,' he said. 'But Hermione's
spiritual intimacy is no rottener than your emotional-jealous intimacy.
One can preserve the decencies, even to one's enemies: for one's own
sake. Hermione is my enemy--to her last breath! That's why I must bow
her off the field.'
'You! You and your enemies and your bows! A pretty picture you make of
yourself. But it takes nobody in but yourself. I JEALOUS! I! What I
say,' her voice sprang into flame, 'I say because it is TRUE, do you
see, because you are YOU, a foul and false liar, a whited sepulchre.
That's why I say it. And YOU hear it.'
'And be grateful,' he added, with a satirical grimace.
'Yes,' she cried, 'and if you have a spark of decency in you, be
grateful.'
'Not having a spark of decency, however--' he retorted.
'No,' she cried, 'you haven't a SPARK. And so you can go your way, and
I'll go mine. It's no good, not the slightest. So you can leave me now,
I don't want to go any further with you--leave me--'
'You don't even know where you are,' he said.
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