Philip Helmstedt observed all this with pain and dread. Yet his pride and firmness would not permit him to yield one tittle.
“This is a conflict between our wills, Marguerite,” he said, “and one in which you should at once, as you must sooner or later, yield.”
“I will when I can, Philip.”
“You must, for you are very weary of this island.”
“I have not said so.”
“You are very obstinate, Mrs. Helmstedt.”
“I am very unhappy in offending you—that is a greater sorrow to me than my restraint.”
“They are the same in fact. Remember, Marguerite, that you are your own custodian, and know how to get your liberty. Speak and you are free!”
“Would, indeed, that I might utter the words you wish to hear, Philip Helmstedt. Alas, I cannot!”
“Will not, you mean. Very well, Marguerite, then remember that you choose this confinement to the island.”