"Yes, under the eyes of holy women!--spying lest any impropriety occur! That's the proposal, I understand. Of all the vile and cold-blooded suggestions!--" And restraining himself with the utmost difficulty, as one might hang on to the curb of a bolting horse, Coryston stamped up and down the room, till speech was once more possible. Then he came to an abrupt pause before his sister. "Are you really in love with this man, Marcia?" So challenged, Marcia did not deign to answer. She merely looked up at Coryston, motionless, faintly smiling. He took his answer, dazzled at the same time by her emerging and developing beauty. "Well, if you do love him," he said, slowly, "and he loves you, _make_ him have pity! Those two, also, love each other. That woman is a poor common little thing. She was a poor common little actress with no talent, before her first husband married her--she's a common little actress now, even when she feels most deeply. You probably saw it, and it repelled you. _You_ can afford, you see, to keep a fine taste, and fastidious feelings! But if you tear her from that man, you kill all that's good in her--you ruin all her miserable chances. That man's raising her. Bit by bit he'll stamp his own character into hers--because she loves him. And Betts himself, a great, silent, hard man, who has once in his life done a splendid thing!--forgotten himself head over ears for a woman--and is now doing his level best to make a good job of her--you Christians are going to reward him first by breaking his heart, and tearing his life-work to pieces!--God!--I wish your Master were here to tell you what He'd think of it!" "You're not His only interpreter!" cried Marcia, breathing quickly. "It's in His name that Edward and his father are acting. You daren't say--you daren't _think_--that it's for mere authority's sake--mere domination's sake!" Coryston eyed her in silence a little. "No use in arguing this thing on its merits," he said, curtly, at last. "You don't know enough about it, and Newbury and I shouldn't have a single premise in common. But I just warn you and him--it's a ticklish game playing with a pair of human lives like these. They are sensitive, excitable people--I don't threaten--I only say--_take care_!" "'Game,' 'play'--what silly words to use about such men as Edward and his father, in such a matter!" said Marcia as she rose, breathing contempt. "I shall talk to Edward--I promised Mrs. Betts. But I suppose, Corry, it's no good saying, to begin with, that when you talk of tyranny, you seem to _me_ at any rate, the best tyrant of the lot." The girl stood with her head thrown back, challenging her brother, her whole slender form poised for battle. Coryston shook his head. "Nonsense! I play the gadfly--to all the tyrants." "_A tyrant_," repeated his sister, steadily. "And an unkind wretch into the bargain! I was engaged--yesterday--and have you said one nice, brotherly word to me?" Her lips trembled. Coryston turned away.