"It's very simple. I meant that if Titus is tired of me, I had just as soon that he should go away to someone else. And so I would--just as soon. S-s-sooner!" If Marianne had stopped on the penultimate word, there might have been no breakdown. But it came, with the intensification of her courageous little falsehood; came in the stereotyped course one knows so well--first, the failure of the lips to be still, then the quickened breath, and then the final irrepressible tears. Then the beseeching to be left alone--only just for one minute!... all will be right in a minute, only don't speak to me, please! Go on talking! "There!--I've been a fool, and I'm sorry." As she said this, Mrs. Challis returned to her pocket a handkerchief that had dried her tears, certainly, but had finished by taking a very unpoetical part in the transaction. The cat, bored by her demonstrativeness, had left her lap for a short stretch on the rug, and now returned with returning quiet. Mrs. Eldridge took a base advantage. "No, dear!--you're very, very brave about it. I know just what I should feel myself. Any woman would feel exactly as you do.... Oh no, dear!--of course we both thoroughly understand. There's nothing really wrong, and nobody is to be suspected of anything." "You don't see what--I--mean!" said Marianne. "You never have, Charlotte. But it ought to be simple enough. You don't suppose I think Titus isn't to be trusted away from my apron-strings after all the years I've known him." "_I_ don't know, dear. Don't ask me! Men are men. However, if you _can_ trust him, I don't see what you want." "I can want a great deal, and I do. I want him not to care about other people more than his own home." "You want him not to care so much about this girl? Isn't that it?" "In a certain sense, _yes_!" "Very well, dear. Perhaps if there are more senses than one in the business, you'll tell me what they are. According to me, a man either cares for a girl, or he doesn't. I can't see any half-way." "I can see heaps of half-ways. What I mean is, when he takes more pleasure in her society than he does in...." "In his wife's? I don't see that we don't mean the same thing, so far." "Then I don't mean that at all, but something else. What is the use of talking if you always twist what I say round?" Marianne is like a witness in the hands of a clever counsel, but with an advantage. If the witness resorts to the use of a bludgeon against the legal rapier, the Court interposes to protect his assailant. There was no Court in Marianne's case. Charlotte retreated into the entrenchments of forbearance. "I don't want to quarrel, dear!" she said. "Suppose you write the letter!" "To her?"