I should have known you couldn't love a man like me.

And could she love a man she'd known for only a few days?

She'd once been able to love a man to death.

I do not love the man, he said to himself.

But as a woman could love the man who was her king.

What sort of woman could love a man like this?

And I wouldn't love a man who could do that.

She could love a man to death, he knew that much.

That I should love a man who might have killed you?

"How could I love a man with blood on his hands?"