"Then you think I am as bad as old Bartley," said Percy, firing up.
"No, I don't."
"Ah," said Percy, glad to find there was a limit.
But Julia explained: "I think you are a great deal worse. You pretend to love me, and yet without the slightest reason you doubt me."
"What did I doubt? I thought you had parted with my bracelet to another person, and so you had. I never doubted your honor."
"Oh yes, you did; I saw your face."
"I am not r—r—responsible for my face."
"Yes, you are; you had no business to look broken-hearted, and miserable, and distrustful, and abominable. It was your business, face and all, to distrust appearances, and not me."
"Ap—pear—ances were so strong that not to look m—miserable would have been to seem indifferent; there is no love where there is no jealousy."
"Oh," said Julia, "he has let that out at last, after denying it a hundred times. Now I say there is no true love without respect and confidence, and this doesn't exist where there is jealousy, and all about a trumpery bracelet."