“But she does! I know she does. Mrs. Coffin, stand away from that door.”
“No, John; if you go out of that door now, to go to her, you'll have to go by main strength. You shan't wreck yourself and that girl if I can help it. Be a man.”
The pair looked at each other. Keziah was determined, but so, evidently, was he. She realized, with a sinking heart, that her words had made absolutely no impression. He did not attempt to pass, but he slowly shook his head.
“Mrs. Coffin,” he said, “perhaps you believe you're doing right. I hope—yes, I'll give you credit for that belief. But I KNOW I am right and I shall go to her. Such a—a BARGAIN as that you have just told me of is no more to be regarded than—”
“John, I beg you—”
“NO.”
“Then go. Go this minute and break her heart and ruin her life and spoil her good name in this village where she's lived since she was eight years old. Go! be selfish. I suppose that's part of a man's make-up. Go! Never mind her. Go!”
“I do 'mind' her, as you call it. I AM thinking of her.”
“No, you're not. It's yourself.”
“If it was myself—and God knows it is the only happiness on earth for me—if it was only myself, and I really thought she wished me to stay away, I'd stay, I'd stay, though I'd pray to die before this hour was over.”