"But still you believe me false?"
"I do."
"And why, Henrietta?"
"Because you are a woman;—no, no, because you are a human being."
"And you really, without meaning to season your speech with pungent crystals of satire—you really do not believe that truth can be found in any human being?"
"I really do not."
"Heaven help you, then! I would rather pass my life in a roofless cabin, and feed on potato-parings, than live in such a persuasion."
"And so would I, Rosalind."
"Then why do you nourish such hateful theories? I shall begin to think your jesting words too true, Henrietta; and believe, indeed, that your wits are not quite healthy."
"Would I could believe it! I would submit to a strait-waistcoat and a shaven crown to-morrow if I could but persuade myself that I was mad, and that all that I have fancied going on around me were but so many vapours from a moon-sick brain."