"What do you do to me?" she cried. "What beastly thing do you
do to me? You put a horrible pressure on my head, you don't let
me sleep, you don't let me live. Every moment of your life you
are doing something to me, something horrible, that destroys me.
There is something horrible in you, something dark and beastly
in your will. What do you want of me? What do you want to do to
me?"
All the blood in his body went black and powerful and
corrosive as he heard her. Black and blind with hatred of her he
was. He was in a very black hell, and could not escape.
He hated her for what she said. Did he not give her
everything, was she not everything to him? And the shame was a
bitter fire in him, that she was everything to him, that he had
nothing but her. And then that she should taunt him with it,
that he could not escape! The fire went black in his veins. For
try as he might, he could not escape. She was everything to him,
she was his life and his derivation. He depended on her. If she
were taken away, he would collapse as a house from which the
central pillar is removed.
And she hated him, because he depended on her so utterly. He
was horrible to her. She wanted to thrust him off, to set him
apart. It was horrible that he should cleave to her, so close,
so close, like leopard that had leapt on her, and fastened.
He went on from day to day in a blackness of rage and shame
and frustration. How he tortured himself, to be able to get away
from her. But he could not. She was as the rock on which he
stood, with deep, heaving water all round, and he was unable to
swim. He must take his stand on her, he must depend on
her.
What had he in life, save her? Nothing. The rest was a great
heaving flood. The terror of the night of heaving, overwhelming
flood, which was his vision of life without her, was too much
for him. He clung to her fiercely and abjectly.
And she beat him off, she beat him off. Where could he turn,
like a swimmer in a dark sea, beaten off from his hold, whither
could he turn? He wanted to leave her, he wanted to be able to
leave her. For his soul's sake, for his manhood's sake, he must
be able to leave her.
But for what? She was the ark, and the rest of the world was
flood. The only tangible, secure thing was the woman. He could
leave her only for another woman. And where was the other woman,
and who was the other woman? Besides, he would be just in the
same state. Another woman would be woman, the case would be the
same.