Up she started, wounded to the quick. “Godfrey!” she cried. “How you hurt! Oh, my dear--spare me. If you had such a low opinion of me, don’t tell me about it. Perhaps I deserve your contempt. God knows, I thought I was doing right. Don’t be harsh with me, dearest. I am only a woman, after all.” I shook my head smilingly. “Drop it,” said I. “You are entirely too strong a person to be able to hide behind a plea of weakness. I have let you use me for your own selfish pleasure all these years because I did not especially care. Also, it kept you away from me--which was highly agreeable to us both.” The anguish in her eyes, whether it was genuine or not, looked so sincere that I avoided her gaze. “But,” I went on, “I’m no longer in the mood to be used. You got through with me, as you thought, and divorced me and prepared to marry a man more to your liking----” “Godfrey--you needn’t be jealous of him--of anyone!” I made a gesture of resigned despair. Jealous! Her vanity rampant. It had seized upon an insignificant phrase and had found what it was eagerly looking for. “I am not jealous of him,” said I, “though it would be useless for me to try to convince you. Still, I repeat--I am not jealous. I was merely saying that you have cast me off, that I choose to regard your action as final, that I shall not let you fasten on me again simply because your selfishness and vanity happen to discover a new value in me. Do I make my position clear?” “I see I can’t convince you of what’s in my heart,” said she with sweet resignation. “I had no right to expect it--to hope for it. But my life will convince you, Godfrey. I shall win you back!” I retained my appearance of calmness. But I was the reverse of calm. I appreciated that she had me in her power. So far as I could judge, she was not after more money, but was under the spell of some form of hysteria that gave her the delusion of an actual desire to love me and to be loved by me. As she had a fortune in her own right, and a large one, I was without means of controlling her. I could not compel her to stick to her bargain and make the divorce legally final; and, even if I had been so disposed I had no ground for a divorce from her unless she should be consenting and assisting. “If you cared for another woman, I might despair,” she went on. “But you don’t. My heart tells me that you don’t.” Should I tell her? I strangled the impulse as it was born; my common sense lost no time in reminding me of the folly of that course. “I’ll be so utterly yours, Godfrey,” she went on, “that you’ll simply _have_ to love me.” I rose. “Let’s have no more of this nonsense,” said I. “Understand, once for all, Edna, the day when you can use me is past--gone forever. You are free--and so am I. We will annoy each other no more.”