“Aspatria! dear Aspatria! I am come to take you with me. I am going to America.” He spoke a little sadly, as if he had some reason for feeling grieved.
She shook her head positively, but she did not, or she could not, speak.
“Aspatria, have you no kiss, no word of 140 welcome, no love to give me?” And he put out his hand, as if to draw her to his embrace.
She stepped quickly backward: “No, no, no! Do not touch me, Ulfar. Go away. Please go away!”
“But you must go with me. You are my wife, Aspatria.” And he said the last words very like a command.
“I am not your wife. Oh, no!”
“I say you are. I married you in Aspatria Church.”
“You also left me there, left me to such shame and sorrow as no man gives to the woman he loves.”
“Perhaps I did act cruelly in two or three ways, Aspatria; but people who love forgive two or three offences. Let us be lovers as we used to be.”
“No, I will not be lovers as we used to be. People who love do not commit two or three such offences as you committed against me.”