"Men like you, sponges like yourself, have made what they call success in all the ages of the world--yes, that's true. Great kings, great cardinals, great politicians, great business men, great thieves have made that kind of a success, that's true enough--I've read about them, yes. Men of that sort--Judge Henderson--sometimes they stop at nothing. They'd betray their very own. I'm not your blood, but if I were, I'd not trust you! Men like you are so absorbed with their own vanity, their own selfishness--they're so used to having everything given to them without exertion, without cost, they grow regardless of what that cost may be to the ones that do the giving. In time they begin to think themselves apart from the rest of the world--don't you think that about yourself now? Oh, are you better than the world? Or are you just a man, like the rest of them? Didn't you ever know--didn't you ever kiss a woman in all your life and know what that meant?" He had sat, his shocked face turned toward her, too stunned for answer. But she saw him start as though under the blow of a dagger at her last words. "Don't think this hasn't hurt," said she, more composedly now. "It's the truth as far as I know it. With your power, your influence, you could get him free--soon--very soon--perhaps. You could make us both happy. But, so you say, that would make _you_ unhappy! I know you well enough to know what the decision will be in a case like that, Judge Henderson! "As for me--" she was closer to him now, utterly fearless, as a woman is who loves and sees the object of her love threatened--"our paths part here, now! I'm of age and my own mistress. I know my own mind, as I've told you. I'm going to stay--I'm going to stick--do you hear? I'm going to love him long as he lives. I'm going to _marry_ him, if it's in a jail!" Judge Henderson only began to wag his head now from side to side. His face had gone ghastly. "Why, Uncle dear"--she came over to him now--"forgive me if I've been too outspoken--it's only because I'm so strained." "Myself also," he groaned. "Strain? Why, yes. You don't know--you don't know!" Suddenly she changed once more, still the woman, still the young girl, as yet half ignorant of life, her hands still on her heaving bosom now, the faint flush back in her cheeks. "He _kissed_ me, Uncle!" said she. "I don't know much, but it seems to me if a man kisses a woman--in that way--it's _life_ for her and him! They can't help it after that. After that, a woman's got to do just all she can in the game of life--and he's got to do the best he knows. They can't help it. He _kissed_ me.... And I told you I'll not desert him. It wouldn't be right. And, right or wrong, I can't--I _can't_!"