"That is easily asserted, Violet; but it would, I think, be better that you should take my part than my father's, if it be that you intend to be my wife."
"You know that I intend to be your wife; but would you wish that I should respect my husband?"
"And will you not do so if you marry me?" he asked.
Then Violet looked into his face and saw that the frown was blacker than ever. The great mark down his forehead was deeper and more like an ugly wound than she had ever seen it; and his eyes sparkled with anger; and his face was red as with fiery wrath. If it was so with him when she was no more than engaged to him, how would it be when they should be man and wife? At any rate, she would not fear him,—not now at least. "No, Oswald," she said. "If you resolve upon being an idle man, I shall not respect you. It is better that I should tell you the truth."
"A great deal better," he said.
"How can I respect one whose whole life will be,—will be—?"
"Will be what?" he demanded with a loud shout.
"Oswald, you are very rough with me."
"What do you say that my life will be?"
Then she again resolved that she would not fear him. "It will be discreditable," she said.