"I assure you, Malla Trap, I've been more sorry than you know about that business."
"Oh, I don't think you ever troubled much to think what a forsaken woman feels, what misery it means to her."
"Well, honestly, I don't find it easy to put myself in her place, as it were—no, I can't say—— It must be very unpleasant, of course.... H'm. But you seem to have got along pretty comfortably all the same, as far as one can see."
"As far as one can see, yes." Her voice was earnest now. "Has it never occurred to you to think why Malla Trap grew into the eccentric, half-foolish creature people turn to smile at now? Do you know what it means to lose one's whole objective in life? Ah, no, you wouldn't understand; no one else, perhaps, could understand how a woman's life can be made empty, aimless, a mere chaos of existence—though, Heaven be thanked, there have been little rays of sun-light here and there. And when the whole poor comedy is ended, why, I hope there may be some few that will spare a kindly thought for Malla Trap."
"If I knew how I could help you, Malla Trap, I'd do it gladly. But, honestly, I can't see what you're driving at just now."
"I want your son to be happy, that's all."
"Oh—so that's where the trouble lies, is it? Very sensible of him, I'm sure, to get you on his side, but if you'll excuse my saying so, Malla Trap, you'd better leave things alone."
He strode up and down, and the casual, easy-going air he had assumed gave way to a more serious expression. At last he stopped, and stood facing her.
"There are critical moments in every man's life," he began, "and, and—I reckon I've had my share. I've been on the verge of bankruptcy...."
"In 1875, yes."