She had sat down on the sofa beside me, but I was not going to be talked over like that. Her words had roused in me the instinctive antagonism of the sexes, and I got up and walked up and down, an occupation which demanded some care amidst the miniature inlaid furniture with which the small room was somewhat overcrowded. 'You know, my dear,' I began rather drily, looking at the ceiling, which was not far above my head, 'when things get so radically wrong between husband and wife, as they seem to be between you and Fabian, the fault is very seldom all on one side.' 'But it is in this case.' 'Are you sure?' 'Yes, quite sure.' 'You think you are not to blame in the least?' 'In this, no.' 'And that all the fault lies on poor Fabian's side?' 'Oh no.' 'Well, on whose side does it lie then?' 'On yours.' I stopped short in front of her, and looked down on the little Dresden china figure, sitting with clasped hands and crossed feet in exasperating demureness on the sofa below me. 'Do you know that you are a confoundedly ungrateful little puss?' 'No, I'm not,' she answered passionately, raising her head and meeting my gaze with eyes full of fire. 'I think of you by day and by night. I read over the books I read with you, to try to feel as if you were still by my side explaining them to me. I talk to you when I am by myself, I sing my best songs to you, I almost pray to you. But just as the heathen beat their gods and throw them in the dust when they lose a battle, so I, when things go wrong with me, find a consolation in accusing you of being the cause.' She laughed a little as she finished, as if ashamed of her temerity, and anxious to let it pass as a joke. But I held my ground and looked at her steadily. 'That is very flattering,' said I, more moved than I cared to show, 'but it is nothing in support of your accusation. Women, the very best of you, think nothing of bringing against your friends charges which a man----' She interrupted hastily, 'I brought no charge.' 'You only accused me of deliberately spoiling the lives of two of my dearest friends.' 'No, no, not that; I only said that you brought about our marriage.' 'Which then seemed to you the climax of earthly happiness. Remember, you married him with your eyes open, content not even to expect him to be a good husband. You admitted that yourself. Is it my fault that your love has proved a weaker thing than you thought?' 'Weaker!' This was apparently a new idea to her. She now spoke in a humbler tone. 'How could I know,' she asked meekly, 'what strong things it would have to conquer? I thought all men were something like you--at heart, and that to please them one had only to try. Oh, and I did try so hard!' The poor little face was drawn into piteous lines and wrinkles as she sighed forth this lament. 'But what has he done, child?'