"Oh, Josiah, what words to me! Have I ever stopped your liberty? Would I not give my life to secure it?"
"Let me go, then, now. I tell you that I have business in hand."
"But I will go with you? I will be ready in an instant."
"You go! Why should you go? Are there not the children for you to mind?"
"There is only Jane."
"Stay with her, then. Why should you go about the parish?" She still held him by the cloak, and looked anxiously up into his face. "Woman," he said, raising his voice, "what is it that you dread? I command you to tell me what is it you fear?" He had now taken hold of her by the shoulder, slightly thrusting her from him, so that he might see her face by the dim light of the single candle. "Speak, I say. What is that you think that I shall do?"
"Dearest, I know that you will be better at home, better with me, than you can be on such a morning as this out in the cold damp air."
"And is that all?" He looked hard at her, while she returned his gaze with beseeching loving eyes. "Is there nothing behind, that you will not tell me?"
She paused for a moment before she replied. She had never lied to him. She could not lie to him. "I wish you knew my heart towards you," she said, "with all and everything in it."
"I know your heart well, but I want to know your mind. Why would you persuade me not to go out among my poor?"