“If I’m a stone, ’tis a rolling one,” she answered, “and that sort don’t gather no moss. I’m glad I’ve met you, Ned, because I’m very wishful for you to know, for your peace of mind, I’m not happy—far, far from it. You deserve to know that. You made me laugh just now, I grant, and that’s the first time I’ve laughed since I left you—God judge me, if it isn’t. The very first time, and the sound was so strange that it made me jump.” “Laugh? You haven’t got much to laugh at I should say.” “That’s true. I’ll never laugh no more. I wouldn’t laugh when I might—now it’s too late.” “It’s never too late for anything for one of your sort. And when you say you’re a rolling stone, I reckon you tell the truth for once. And things that roll go down hill, remember that. Hell knows where you’ll roll to before you finish.” “It won’t be your fault, Ned. You’ve got nothing to blame yourself with,” she answered humbly, and he judged wrongly of what was in her mind. “You’d better send Kellock along to me,” he said. “The business is in hand, and I may tell you, I meant to hit him as hard as I knew how. But there’s two sides to that, and in the long run what kept me from getting a gallows out of him is the same that’s going to keep me from getting damages. And that’s you.” “I’m not worthy to black your boots, Ned,” declared Medora. “No, and more’s he—more’s he; mind that. You thought he was the clever, strong man—the sort of man would be a tower of strength to any woman, and all the rest of it; and now you know, or you jolly soon will know, that he’s only a tower of strength for himself—not for you. A man like him wants a woman to match him, and if you ask yourself if you match him, and answer yourself honest, if you can, then you’ll answer that you don’t and never will. You can send him to me at my convenience. He can call o’ Monday at half-after eight—then I’ll decide about it.” “Thank you, Ned. It’s more than we deserve, I dare say. I don’t care much what happens now if you can forgive me. I suppose you can’t, but it would mean a lot to me if you could.” “You think I’ve got something to forgive, then? That’s surprising. I thought ’twas all the other way.” “So did I,” she answered, “but I know better now. I shouldn’t be suffering like I am if I’d done right.” “You can do right and still suffer,” he answered, “and now be off, and send the man to me.”