"Look here!" she said. "Bad as I am, you've got to reason with me, Rag. I didn't know all this. I didn't understand... I don't know what to do."
"What is there to do?"
"I've got to do something. I'm beginning to see things. It's just as though everything had become clear suddenly." She was weeping. "Oh, my dear! I want to help you. I have so wanted to help you. Always. And it's come to this!"
"But it's not your fault. I didn't mean that. It's—it's in the nature of things."
"It's my fault."
"It's not your fault."
"It is."
"Confound it, Marjorie. When I swear at Behrens I'm not swearing at you."
"It's my fault. All this is my fault. I'm eating you up. What's the good of your pretending, Rag. You know it is. Oh! When I married you I meant to make you happy, I had no thought but to make you happy, to give myself to you, my body, my brains, everything, to make life beautiful for you——"