“Sit down and let us talk about it quietly,” he said, coming back after a moment. “I think we have misunderstood each other; of course I should not have laughed if I had thought you were serious. Try to tell me plainly what is troubling you; and then, if there is any misunderstanding, we may be able to clear it up.”
“There's nothing to clear up. I can see you don't care a brass farthing for me.”
“My dear child, we had better be quite frank with each other. I have always tried to be honest about our relationship, and I think I have never deceived you as to——”
“Oh, no! you have been honest enough; you have never even pretended to think of me as anything else but a prostitute,—a trumpery bit of second-hand finery that plenty of other men have had before you—”
“Hush, Zita! I have never thought that way about any living thing.”
“You have never loved me,” she insisted sullenly.
“No, I have never loved you. Listen to me, and try to think as little harm of me as you can.”
“Who said I thought any harm of you? I——”
“Wait a minute. This is what I want to say: I have no belief whatever in conventional moral codes, and no respect for them. To me the relations between men and women are simply questions of personal likes and dislikes———”
“And of money,” she interrupted with a harsh little laugh. He winced and hesitated a moment.