[The distress has turned into a bizarre anger, defensive somehow of the demon that took advantage of him. (Imagine trying to argue with him about Lord Henry.)] Do you think so truly? It was a sincere wish, and I would not take it back! I am glad for my youth, for my beauty, for my healing! And I don't care a bit what happens to my soul! So do you still find me innocent, or would you judge me guilty like all the rest?

[While the babble is nonsensical and only half-true, the defensiveness comes from a deep-rooted sense of guilt, of culpability. The accusation, unintended, from one he trusts and respects so much strikes at the root.]