"No good raging. You're selfish, and you never think of me working my fingers to the bone and, very likely, not knowing where to look for a meal. You only want me--not my happiness and prosperity. That's not love. If you loved me, you would have come long since and released me from this engagement, and saved me the pain of all this talk. Nobody ever thinks of me and my future and my anxieties. I've only got my face and--and--you say 'damn' and I'll say it too. Damn--damn--damn--that's thrice for your once; and I hate you thrice as much as you hate me, and I've thrice the reason to. I hate you for being so selfish; and 'tis no good ever you saying you care about me again, because you never did--not really. You couldn't--else you wouldn't have put yourself first always." He started, quite reduced to silence by this assault. She struck him dumb, but his look infuriated her. "You won't make me draw back, so you needn't think it," she cried. "I'm not ashamed of a word I've said. 'Tis you ought to be ashamed. And I'm not sorry for you neither, for you've never once been sorry for me. After the crash, not one word of trouble for my loss and my disappointment did you utter--'twas only whining about your horses, and the house at Plympton, and all the rest of it. Vain cursing of the man in his grave; when you ought to have cursed yourself for letting him have the power to do what he did. I'd have stuck to you, money or no money, if you'd been a different man--I swear that. I'd have taken you and set to work--as I shall now, single-handed--but how can any decent girl with a proper conceit of herself sink herself to your level and become your drudge? Am I to work for us both? Are you going to live on the money I make out of women's bonnets?" "No!" he answered. "Don't think that. I'm dull, I know, and slow-witted. Such a fool was I that I never believed anything bad of a woman, or ever thought an unkind thought of anything in petticoats. But you use very straight English always, and you make your meaning perfectly clear. I know it won't be easy for me to get the work I want. I may be poor for a long time--perhaps always. I'll release you, Cora, if that's what you wish. No doubt I ought to have thought of it; but I'll swear I never did. I thought you loved me, and everything else was small by comparison. If anybody had said 'release her,' I'd have told him that he didn't know what love of woman meant--or a woman's love of man. But you can be free and welcome, and put the fault on my shoulders. They can bear it. Go to Timothy. He's always wanted you." "You needn't be coarse. I'm sick and tired of all you men. You don't know what love means--none of you. And since you say I'm to go, I'll go. And I'll find peace somewhere, somehow; but not with none of you." He laughed savagely.