“What, before my tyrant? Oh no, I dared not.”
“So you took them off before you came home?”
Rosa hung her head, and said “Yes” in a reluctant whisper.
“You spent your daylight dressing. You dressed to go out; dressed again in stays; dressed again without them; and all to deceive your husband, and kill yourself, at the bidding of two shallow, heartless women, who would dance over your grave without a pang of remorse, or sentiment of any kind, since they live, like midges, ONLY TO DANCE IN THE SUN, AND SUCK SOME WORKER'S BLOOD.”
“Oh, Christie! I'm so easily led. I am too great a fool to live. Kill me!”
And she kneeled down, and renewed the request, looking up in his face with an expression that might have disarmed Cain ipsum.
He smiled superior. “The question is, are you sorry you have been so thoughtless?”
“Yes, dear. Oh! oh!”
“Will you be very good to make up?”
“Oh, yes. Only tell me how; for it does not come natural to poor me.”