"As regards Terry?"
"Yes."
"But—Helen—what is it that you're going to do?"
"I'm not certain."
"You're not going to make a fool of him again?"
That stung her out of her somnambulist calmness. She answered, with sharp passion: "Why do you say that? Why do you insult me? I didn't ask you to come here—I even tried to stop you from coming. Why did you come? ... If you don't like what you're hearing, go away."
I told her quietly that I didn't like what I was hearing, but that I wasn't going away.
Then she cried out: "Stay, then. Do whatever you like—I don't care. I've made up my mind what I'm going to do, and I'll do it, right or wrong.... And if you say a word to Terry, I'll deny everything and call you a liar. He'll believe me."
"You'd do that?"
"I'd do anything. I'm absolutely at the limit of unscrupulousness. When you want anything badly enough—if you ever do—perhaps you'll be the same...."