"I can manage the squire," said Dick briefly.
She smiled and passed on. "And Jack? What will he do?"
"I don't know and I don't care. He's the sort of animal to land on his feet whichever way he falls. Anyhow, he's going, and I never want to speak or hear of him again." Dick's thin lips came together in a hard, compelling line.
"Are you never going to forgive him?" said Juliet.
His eyes had a stony glitter. "It's hardly a matter for forgiveness," he said. "When anyone has done you an irreparable injury the only thing left is to try and forget it and the person responsible for it as quickly as possible. I don't thirst for his blood or anything of that kind. I simply want to be rid of him—and to wipe all memory of him out of my life."
"Do you always want to do that with the people who injure you?" said Juliet.
He looked at her, caught by something in her tone. "Yes, I think so.
Why?"
"Oh, never mind why!" she said, with a faint laugh that sounded oddly passionate. "I just want to find out what sort of man you are, that's all."
She would have turned away from him with the words, but he held her with a certain dominance. "No, Juliet! Wait! Tell me—isn't it reasonable to want to get free of anyone who wrongs you—to shake him off, kick him off if necessary,—anyway, to have done with him?"
"I haven't said it was unreasonable," she said, but she was trembling as she spoke and her face was averted.