"I want nothing but that my wife should show some sort of dignity."
"I see! You should have asked Mrs. Bethune to see after your house—your guests!" says Tita.
She says it very lightly. Her small face has a faint smile upon it. She moves to a large lounging chair, and flings herself into it with charming abandon, crosses her lovely naked arms behind her head, and looks up at him with naughty defiance.
"Perhaps you hardly know, Tita, what you are saying," says Rylton slowly.
"Yes, I do. I do indeed. What I do not know is, what fault you have to find with me."
"Then learn it at once." His tone is stern. "I object to your playing hide-and-seek with your cousin."
"With my cousin! One would think," says Tita, getting up from her chair and staring at him as if astonished, "that Tom and I had been playing it by ourselves!"
"It seemed to me very much like that," says Rylton, his eyes white and cold.
"I know what you mean," says Tita. "And," with open contempt, "I'm sorry for you—you think Tom is in love with me! And you therefore refuse to let me have a single word with him at any time. And why? What does it matter to you, when you don't care? When you are not in love with me!" Rylton makes a slight movement. "It's a regular dog in the manger business; you don't like me, and therefore nobody else must like me. That's what it comes to! And," with a little blaze of wrath, "it is all so absurd, too! If I can't speak to my own cousin, I can't speak to anyone."
"I don't object to your speaking to your cousin," says Rylton; "you can speak to him as much as ever you like. What I object to is your making yourself particular with him—your spending whole hours with him."