"You are making large assumptions."
"I know. And I don't mind your sarcasm, though I don't think any more of you for using it.... I repeat what I said—if Helen leaves you or if you leave Helen, I shall have nothing more to do with you."
"It is certainly kind of you to warn me in time."
"You've never given Helen a fair trial. I know you and she are ill-matched. I know you oughtn't to have married her at all, but that doesn't matter—you've done it, and you've got to be fair to her. And if you think that because I've confessed that I love you I'm in your power for you to be cruel to, you're mistaken!" Her voice rose passionately.
He stared at her, admiring the warm flush that came into her cheeks, and all the time pitying her, loving her, agonisingly!
"Understand," she went on, "You've got to look after Helen—you've got to take care of her—watch her—do you know what I mean?"
"No. What do you mean?"
"I mean you must try to make her happy. She's sick and miserable, and, somehow, you must cure her. I came here to see you because I thought I could persuade you to be kind to her. I thought if you loved me at all, you might do it for my sake. Remember I love Helen as well as you. Do you still think I'm hard-hearted and cold? If you knew what goes on inside me, the racking, raging longing—the— No, no—what's the good of talking of that to you? You either understand or else you don't, and if you don't, no words of mine will make you.... But I warn you again, you must cure Helen of her unhappiness. Otherwise, she might try to cure herself—in any way, drastic or not, that occurred to her. Do you know now what I mean?"
"I'm afraid I don't, even yet."
"Well"—her voice became harder—"it's this, if you want plain speaking. Watch her in case she kills herself. She's thinking of it."