"Now, my dear," she said, removing her hat and cloak, "we are quite alone--quite, quite alone! You see I am not afraid of you. I thought you were only playing with my feelings when you refused to embrace me. What, you will not kiss me even now? You have indeed grown cold and hard-hearted. You were not so once, in the sweet days, not so long ago, of our first acquaintanceship. And how old you have grown--quite haggard! My dear, gentlemen should not run away from their wives. This should be a lesson to you. I hope it will be--with all my heart I hope it will be; indeed, indeed I do! Oh, how I have suffered while you have been away! And never to send me a letter--not a single line to relieve my anxiety. It was cruel of you--too, too cruel! I have had the most horrible dreams of you. I dreamt you were ill, and I could not get to you--that you were in danger, and I could not help you--that you were dead, without as much as saying good-bye to your fond, faithful wife! It was horrible, horrible! Really, my dear, it would be a proper punishment if I refused ever to speak another word to you." "Have you done with your trifling?" I asked. "Trifling!" she cried. "You have been absent from me and your home for months, without sending me one message of affection, and now that you return to London suddenly, and take up your lodging in a mean house like this, and I am pouring my heart out at your feet, you call it trifling! Take care, my dear--you may try my patience too far!" "You may try mine too far," I retorted. "Cast aside, if it is possible, your false airs and affectations, and let us talk as business people in a business way." "It is for business, then," she said, still smiling in my face, "and not for love, you summoned me here?" "There is no question of love between us," I replied, and was about to proceed when she interrupted me. "You will force me to be as cold and hard-hearted as yourself. The last time we were together--alone, as we are now--yes, alone, for you dared not, you dare not, speak in the presence of a third party as you spoke to me then!--you brought against me a number of false accusations, and vowed that you would never live with me again. If I had been a man I would have killed you--do you hear? I would have killed you, and the words you addressed to me should have been the last you would ever have spoken. But you took advantage of my weakness, and you insulted me as no woman in the world was ever insulted. Is it to insult me again that you have sent for me now to meet you here alone?" It pleased me that she should adopt this tone. I could cope with her better when she showed me her true nature. "It is not of the past that I wish to speak," I said, calmly, "it is of the future." "But the past must be spoken of," she rejoined vehemently, "and shall be." "If you are determined, it must be so. You will find me very forbearing. My only wish is to put an end to this miserable business for once and for ever!"