"I'm afraid I can't expect to make you understand that. Perhaps no woman that ever I met but Madge would understand it. Don't let that come between us. Be just. Moods and whims and silliness after a long cruel strain may happen to men as well as women."
"Well, I despise the men, or women either, who could sink to such things."
"You were at my mother's funeral. You know if I felt her loss or not."
"Things are as they are," she answered calmly. "'Tis no good us telling any more. My brother and his wife want to come in the parlour, and we're keeping 'em out."
Bartley rose.
"I'll be off then. And mark this: you'll have to listen to me once more yet before I go. No man worth the name would take 'no' for an answer under thrice."
"Better save your time. You'll never make me feel different to you. We're not built to look alike or feel alike at any point. The sooner you know that the better."
"Bid 'em good-bye for me and try to think different."
He offered his hand and she took it.
"I'll never think different so long as I can think at all," she said.