"I have the power to make you go, and I will," said Pethram, coldly.
"Are you a man or a devil?"
"I am what you have made me."
"What I made you!" she hissed, in a voice shaking with bitter scorn. "No! it is you who have made me what I am. I loved you when I married you. As there is a God above, I loved you; but with your cold, cruel words, with your sarcastic sneers, with your neglect you killed that love. I had no friend. I was only a girl, and you crushed my heart. I was dying for the love and tenderness which you refused to give me."
"I was a good husband."
"As the world says, 'A good husband.' You gave me a good home. You surrounded me with every comfort. To all outward appearance, I had nothing left to desire. Ah, how little you, with your cold, cruel nature, know what a woman wants. I desired love! I desired tenderness, but I did not get it. Oates was kind to me. He cheered my loneliness, and in a moment of madness I went with him. I regretted it the moment afterwards. I have regretted it ever since. God knows how miserable my life has been. Now I have a chance of happiness, I will take advantage of it. I will stay with my child; you can do what you like, you can say what you like--I stay."
Without changing a muscle of his face, Sir Rupert heard his miserable wife to the end, then advanced once more to the bell.
"You have said all; now go, or I will have you turned out."
Mrs. Belswin laughed scornfully.
"Do what you like," she said, indifferently. "You have said what you will do; I have said what I will do."