“Oh, don't suppose I'm going to do hospital nursing all my life,” she said. “It may be good womanly work, but I want to be a human being with a heart, and not a machine called Duty. How I hate and despise my surroundings! I'll make an end of them one of these days. Sooner or later it must come to that.” “Your life has been deranged, Glory, and that is why you disdain your surroundings. You were at the theatre last night.” “Who told you that? Well, what of it? Are you one of those who think the theatre----” “I don't object to the theatre, Glory. It is the derangement of your life I am thinking of; and if anybody is responsible for that he is your enemy, not your friend.” “You will make me angry again, as you did before,” and she began to bite her quivering lip. “I did not come to make you angry, Glory. I came to ask you--even to entreat you--to break off this hateful connection.” “Because you know nothing of this--this connection, as you say--you call it hateful.” “I know what I am talking about, my child. The life these men live is worse than hateful; and it makes my heart bleed to see you falling a victim to it.” “You are degrading me again; you are always degrading me. Other men try to be agreeable to me, but you---- Besides, I can not hear my friends abused. Yes, they _are_ my friends. I _was_ at the theatre with them last night, and I am going to take tea at their chambers on my next holiday. So please----” “Glory!” With one plunge of his arm he had gripped her by the wrist. “You are hurting me.” “You are never to set foot in the rooms of those men!” “Let me go!” “You are as inexperienced as a child, Glory, and it is my duty to protect you against yourself.” “Let go, I say!” “Don't destroy yourself. Think while there's time--think of your good name, your character!” “I shall do as I please.” “Listen! If I have chosen to be a clergyman, it's not because I've lived all my life in cotton wool. Let me tell you what the lives of such men really are--the best of them, the very best. He gets up at noon, walks in the park, takes tea with some one, grunts and groans that he must go to somebody's dinner party, escapes to the Gaiety Theatre, sups at a so-called club----” “You mean Lord Robert. But what right have you to say----” “The right of one who knows him to be as bad as this, and worse--ten times worse! Such a man thinks he has a right to play with a girl if she is poor. She may stake her soul, her salvation, but he risks nothing. To-day he trifles with her; to-morrow he marries another, and flings her to the devil!” “There's something else in this. What is it?” But John Storm had swung about and left her.