“That be blessed! I wa'n't really a woman-hater. I only thought I was. And—and I never hated you. Right through the worst of it I never did. Let's try it again, Emeline. You're in trouble. You need somebody to help you. Give me the chance.”
There was a wistful look in her eyes; she seemed, or so he thought, to be wavering. But she shook her head. “I was in trouble before, Seth,” she said, “and you didn't help me then. You run off and left me.”
“You just as much as told me to go. You know you did.”
“No, I didn't.”
“Well, you didn't tell me to stay.”
“It never seemed to me that a husband—if he was a man—would need to be coaxed to stay by his wife.”
“But don't you care about me at all? You used to; I know it. And I always cared for you. What is it? Honest, Emeline, you never took any stock in that Sarah Ann Christy doin's, you know you didn't; now, did you?”
She was close to tears, but she smiled in spite of them.
“Well, no, Seth,” she answered. “I will confess that Sarah Ann never worried me much.”
“Then DON'T you care for me, Emeline?”