“Being more fully acquainted with my own affairs than you are, I assure you that your promise is one which cannot by any possibility be made good.”
“Time will prove or disprove the truth of that assertion. To begin with, may I ask you a question or two?”
“You may ask me twenty questions. I do not pledge myself to answer them.”
“Well, will you answer this one? Am I right in having understood you to say, when we were below there, on the wharf, that you have no friends or kindred whose feelings you are bound to consider in determining your conduct, and no worldly ties or associations which you are bound to respect?”
“Yes, you are right in that.”
“I am right in having understood you to say that; but is what you said true?”
“Which would imply that you suspect me of having lied,” she returned, with an unlovely smile. “Well, I don't blame you. I am a skilful and habitual liar, and I daresay it shows in my face. But in that case I broke my rule, and told the truth.”
“My dear madam, I intended no such imputation. But you were agitated and excited; and sometimes under the stress of our excitement we unwittingly exaggerate.”
“Well, I did not exaggerate. What I told you was literally true.”
“And the rest that you said? That also you re-affirm? That you are penniless, homeless, wretchedly unhappy, and weary of life? It seems brutal for me to state it thus; but I must understand clearly, for a purpose which you will presently see.”