"If he did, he would deserve to die. I would not shed a tear for him. As for Quentin Macpherson!—I wish that I was a man. I would cut his tongue out."
"Maria!"
"I would, truly. Then I would flog him to death."
Neil's dark face flushed crimson; his fingers twitched; he looked with approval and admiration at the passionate girl. "One hundred years ago—in Scotland," he said, "I would have answered, 'Yes! He deserves it! I will do it for you!'"
"It is so wretched to be a woman! You can go out, see for yourself, hear for yourself; a girl can only suffer. Hour after hour, all night long, all day long, I have walked the floor in misery. How does Agnes bear it? She was cross, and sent me away this morning."
"She looks very ill; but she is calm, and not without hope. She has spoken to God and been comforted. Can you not do so?"
"No. I am not Agnes. I cannot pray. I want to do something. Oh, dear me! all this shame and sorrow because I had a little love-making with her brother and we did not tell the whole town about it. It is too great a punishment! It is not just nor kind. What wrong have I done? Yet how I have to suffer! No, I cannot pray, but if I can do anything, see any one, be of any earthly help or use——"
"I think Medway has some scheme, if Clinton should fail, and that this scheme requires a woman's help."
"I hope it does! I hope it does! I will run any risk."
"Medway is coming here at seven o'clock. He wishes distinctly to see you. Run what risk you choose. I am not afraid of you. Nothing will make you forget you are Maria Semple."