“Yes, I daresay you have. I was thinking of two lovers who were so overcome with happiness that they decided that they would not trust themselves again to the waves and storms of life, but would let the calm, slow tide of death take them away with all their happiness unassoiled.” Maggie did not answer. The double fear had come upon her--first, that the tide might rise higher than usual and cut off their retreat. Secondly, that Frank--he was a poet--might insist on remaining there and being drowned. Getting up, she said: “I do not know what father will say when I get home, really it is quite dark. Come, Frank.” “Death is better than a life of abomination--loss of innocence, and of delight in simple things. I ask you,” he said, stopping her suddenly. “Yes, no doubt it is so; but I want to get home. Do go on, Frank.” “I will save you from a life of abomination--in other words I will save you from him; he shall not get you. I have sworn it; you did notknow that when you were lying down on the beach--you had ceased speaking, and in the silence my life seemed stirred to its very essence; and I knew that I must struggle against him, and conquer. I want to know this: Have you ever thought of what your life would be with him? Have you ever thought what he is?” “But you don't know him, Frank. You have never spoken to him. I am sure you misjudge him.” “Do you think I cannot see what he is? He is one of those men whose one ambition is to make themselves friendly in a house where there are women to wheedle. If the wife is young he will strive to wheedle her, and though he may not succeed he must degrade her. Or, if she have daughters, he will never cease to appeal to, to work upon, to excite latent feelings which, had it not been for him, would never have been developed into base and abnormal desire. I know what the foul-minded beast is. Such men as he ought to be killed; we don't want them in our society. I want to save you, I want to give you a noble, a pure life, full of the charms of a husband's influence, a home where there would be love of natural things. You are capable of all this, Maggie, your nature is a pure one, but your life is unwholesome and devoid of purity.” “Frank, how can you speak so? You have no right to say such things about us. I am sure you have always been well treated--”