"If you’re going out of it, ’twill be by the blessing of God for all in this house," she answered. He started and his colour changed to pale. "A glimmer of another sort of feeling with a vengeance!" he said. "But not the sort I was still fond fool enough to hope for. You shall talk, since you’re so fired to do it, and I’ll listen. Yes, I’m going. And you won’t come?" Her silence spoke scornfully. "Well," he continued, "I’m paid what I deserve, I suppose: I’ve made you loathe me instead of love me. It’s bad luck, for I’ve felt for three years--however, such queer things often happen." "You never loved a woman like a decent man, for ’tisn’t in you to do it," she said. "You think you hide yourself; but you don’t. You’re evil all through, and the touch of you is evil." "Why do you say these harsh things? What have I done but court you like an honest man and a patient one?" "Ask yourself--not me. Ask yourself what you’ve been doing, and plotting, and amusing yourself about of late. Ask yourself who ’tis you meet in this place and that!" "Well, I never! So you’ve been interested in me all the time! Interested enough to care what I was doing and thinking about. By all right understanding that ought to mean you cared a bit for me. Women don’t spy on a man, save for love or hate. And hate me you can’t without a cause, though you speak and look as if you did. If I thought you were jealous--but that’s too good to be true. Who is it? Out with it.’ At least I’ve a right to know who ’tis that I meet so secret while you peep at us." He bantered her and cared little that she grew rosy and furious; for he knew it was all over now and that they would probably never speak together again. "You ask that and pretend--and pretend!" she burst out. "As if it might be a score of women! But I know, and ’twasn’t for love nor yet hate that I watched you--not for love of you or her anyway." "Come now--no puzzles! Then I’m after another man’s sweetheart on the quiet. Is that it? Well, who is she? I’ve a right to know in the face of such a charge." "You’re after another man’s wife," she said, and faced him without flinching. But still he laughed. "You maidens! What hen dragons of virtue you are, to be sure. ’Another man’s wife’--eh? Then no wonder you look a thought awry at me. Poor fellow! He’s terribly wronged, to be sure. Have you told him what I’m doing? Or are you in love with this other chap?" "Go," she said furiously. "You know the truth in your wicked heart, and I know it, and it’s devilish in you to take it like this. I’ll suffer no more of you; I’ll never breathe the same air with you no more;--and them I care about shan’t, if I can help it. You ought to be torn in a thousand pieces by honest men and women--vile thing that you are!" He sat down calmly and patted a dog that rose from the hearth and growled at him in some uneasiness before Rhoda’s fury.