Explore "My Hildegarde" by St. George Rathborne on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When Hildegarde cried out in such evident dismay upon discovering that I was bleeding more or less profusely from some miserable cut on the head, my first sensation, strange as it may seem, was one of pleasure.
That she should care at all whether I suffered was a singular thing in itself, for people do not usually interest themselves in those for whom they profess to entertain a feeling of scorn that at least borders on hatred.