The Stranger.

“You merely find yourself in the old position of trying to change me. And I refuse to be changed. I won't change. If I don't feel these things—I don't feel them and there's an end of it.”

For a moment he stood there, cold, frigid, grasping the door-handle, staring not at her but over her head. He looked like a stranger who had opened her door by accident, and felt it necessary, for some reason or other to explain the accident before he closed it again and went out of her life for ever.