‘No, I never loved you.’

He took her by the arms and turned her round roughly.  ’Look me in the face and dare to say you have never loved me.’

His memory was buzzing with passionate phrases from her endless letters.  They stung like a swarm of bees.  The sunset was like blood-red mist before his eyes.

‘I have never loved you,’ she said obstinately.

‘You—!’ His grasp on her arms tightened.  He shook her.

‘You are bruising me,’ she cried.

His grasp fell from her arms as though they were red-hot.  He had become a woman beater.