"You've been a bad woman with a streak of devil in you. Tried to ruin my life, but I didn't let you. No, siree! I've worked things out. I've gotten on. I'm big in my way--in my business--in my home." "Albert, I love to hear you say that!" "You! You don't love anything or anybody outside yourself." "Why? Because I took my chance to save myself from everything I--I hated! Not you--not they--but everything it stands for out there. Does self-preservation imply only selfishness?" "Whatever it implies," he answered, stung to dark red by his effort for quick retort, "you're selfish--rotten selfish. But you haven't kept me down. I've gotten up these eighteen years--and you--you--Bah!" "You've been happy, Albert? Tell me you have." "Happy! I'm not a hog for happiness. You to inquire about my happiness! Lots you care! I've had my share of contentment. Contented as a man can be in a community where he has kept up a farce for seventeen years that his wife is off with his consent studying opera. But I've kept my name--kept it in spite of you. I don't know what's been what with you. Guess if the truth is known, I'm afraid to think what's what!" "Albert--" "Oh, I don't put anything past you. I don't even know if that girl is mine. For all I know you're a--" "Albert!" "Bah! I don't put anything past you!" She faced his words as if they were blows, letting them rain. "You're lying, Albert," she said, evenly. "She's yours and you know it." "I've kept _my_ name! Kept it and tried to make it up to your parents, who deserved better than you!" She quivered and the red that sprang out in her face was almost purple, and yet by her silence bared her chest for more, as if grateful for the sting of the lash. "Bah! Don't be afraid. I don't want to know anything, but I'm not the booby I may seem to you. When a woman has lived around this way for all these years, in with a gang of show folks--Bah! I don't want to know." And spat. "She's yours, Albert, and you know it. You know it!" "Yes, I guess she is, from the look of her, not that I put anything past you. But that's your business. You're nothing to me. I'm cured of you. You couldn't make me suffer the way they do in books. I've kept my name, so if it's divorce you have on your brain, you might as well get it out, because--" "No, Albert--" "I've kept my name, whatever you've done to yours. Your life is your business. But the girl. That's where I have a right or two coming to me." She was prepared for just this, but somehow when it came it was a full moment before she could answer, for the rush of fear that choked her. "That's for--for Zoe to decide."