"It will come to that," said Moya's heart; "but not through Theodore; no, thank you!"
"It shall never come to it at all!" replied her heart of hearts.
And her lips echoed the "Never!" as she marched to the door. Theodore had his foot against it in time.
"Now listen to me! No, you're not going till you listen to reason and me! You may call me a brute till you're black in the face. I don't mind being one for your own good. This thing's coming to an end; in fact it's come; it ought never to have begun, but I tell you it's over. The family were always agreed about it, and I'm practically the head of the family; at all events I'm acting head up here, and I tell you this thing's over whether you like it or not. But you like it. What's the good of pretending you don't? But whether you do or you don't you shall never marry the fellow! And now you know it you may go if you like. Only do for God's sake be ready in the morning, like the sane person you always used to be."
Moya did not move an inch towards the opened door. Her tears were dry; fires leapt in their stead.
"Is that all?"
"Unless you wish me to say more."
"What a fool you are, Theodore!"
"I'm afraid I distrust expert evidence."
"With all your wits you don't know the first thing about women!"