"I would never have come near those whom I had disgraced," she finished swiftly, and went on with her stitching.
The culprit writhed.
"Lizzie," he said, "do not be too hard on me. I have sinned, but I have been punished. You might forgive me now."
"Never!" said the wife, curtly, and the expression of her eyes told him that she fully meant what she said.
"How hard women can be."
"Women," remarked Mrs. Jenner, shifting the work on her knee, "are what men make them. You behaved to me like the brute that you are; you cannot blame me, then, if I treat you according to your nature. I live for our child--to make amends for what you have done. Therefore, I have an object in life. Had I not, I would gladly die; and I would gain death--a shameful death--by killing you."
The terrible intensity of her gaze made the guilty wretch shiver. "I will make it up to you," he said, feebly.
"Not you. You will go on just the same--that is if I will let you--and that I don't intend to do."
"I shall have money soon--plenty of money."
"What! Are you going to steal again? I want none of your ill-gotten gains. This house is poor, but it is honest. I earn the food my child and I eat, or I beg it; but stealing? No, I leave that to you. Why have you come here?"