She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. ‘I don’t want to hurt you any more. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. God is a jealous God, and He turned upon me relentlessly. Hearing a noise below, Quilt called out, supposing it occasioned by the Jew. Wood," observed Jackson, in a slightly-sarcastic tone. It must have cut him. But she did not believe he would do that. There were so many things about her which he could not understand. It’s no good hiding it any more.
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