“You are evidently resolved, sir, to avail yourself of your privilege,” said she, with a slight irritation of manner; “but when people incur a debt, they must compound for being dunned. You desire to know why I wish to part with this girl? I will tell you. I mean to cutoff all connection with the past; and she belongs to it. I mean to carry with me no memories of _that_ time; and she is one of them. I mean to disassociate myself from whatever might suggest a gloomy retrospect; and this her presence does continually. Perhaps, too, I have other plans,--plans so personal that your good breeding and good taste would not permit you to penetrate.” Though the sarcasm in which these last words were uttered was of the faintest, Stocmar felt it, and blushed slightly as he said: “You do me but justice, madam. I would not presume so far! Now, as to the question itself,” said he, after a pause, “it is one requiring some time for thought and reflection.” “Which is what it does not admit of, sir,” broke she in. “It was on Mr. Trover's assurance that you were one of those who at once can trust themselves to say 'I will,' or 'I will not,' that I determined to see you. If the suddenness of the demand be the occasion of any momentary inconvenience as to the expense, I ought to mention that she is entitled to a few hundred pounds,--less, I think, than five,--which, of course, could be forthcoming.” “A small consideration, certainly, madam,” said he, bowing, “but not to be overlooked.” He arose and walked the room, as though deep in thought; at last, halting before her chair, and fixing a steady but not disrespectful gaze on her, he said, “I have but one difficulty in this affair, madam, but yet it is one which I know not how to surmount.” “State it, sir,” said she, calmly. “It is this, madam: in the most unhappy newness of our acquaintance I am ignorant of many things which, however anxious to know, I have no distinct right to ask, so that I stand between the perils of my ignorance and the greater perils of possible presumption.” “I declare to you frankly, sir, I cannot guess to what you allude. If I only surmised what these matters were, I might possibly anticipate your desire to hear them.” “May I dare, then, to be more explicit?” asked he, half timidly. “It is for you, sir, to decide upon that,” said she, with some haughtiness. “Well, madam,” said he, boldly, “I want to know are you a widow?” “Yes, sir,” said she, with a calm composure. “Am I, then, to believe that you can act free and uncontrolled, without fear of any dictation or interference from others?” “Of course, sir.” “I mean, in short, madam, that none can gainsay any rights you exercise, or revoke any acts you execute?” “Really, sir, I cannot fancy any other condition of existence, except it be to persons confined in an asylum.”