Krakatit by Karel Čapek

She sat motionless on the couch, her knees drawn up to her chin, her hair falling across her face and her hands clasped convulsively around her neck. He was afraid of what he had done, and kissed her knees, hands, hair, grovelled on the floor and poured out entreaties and endearments; she did not see or hear. It seemed to him that she trembled with revulsion at his every touch.

Then she quietly got up and went over to the glass. He approached her on tiptoe, hoping to surprise her, but then he caught sight of her reflection. She was looking at herself with an expression so wild, terrible, and desperate, that he was horrified. She turned round and fell on his shoulder. "Am I ugly? Do I revolt you? What have I done, what have I done? " She pressed her face against his chest. "I'm stupid, you see? I know. I know that you're disappointed. But you mustn't be contemptuous of me, you understand? " She nestled against him like a repentant young girl. "You won't escape, will you? I'll do anything you like, you see? As if I were your wife. Darling, darling, don't leave me to think; I shall become horrible to myself again if once I think; you've no idea what my thoughts are. Don't leave me now -- " Her trembling fingers caressed his neck; he raised her head and kissed her, murmuring all sorts of things in his ecstasy. Color came back into her face and she became beautiful again. "Am I ugly? " she whispered, happy and dazed, between his kisses, "I should like to be beautiful for your sake. Do you know why I came? I expected that you would kill me."