“Dare? I will dare to turn you out of this house. I have chosen the man, and made love to him as his equal. His scruples as your friend bound him. They do not bind me. Thank yourself if this means a tragedy. You challenged the world in your strength. You proclaimed freedom in comradeship. Under the old laws of life, this man would have cut his right arm off rather than betray you. You invited him here. Has he no rights—have I no rights you must respect under such conditions?”
He ignored her question and continued to look at her in stubborn, curious silence.
“Do you know what you are saying?” he asked, brusquely.
“Certainly. Repeating to you the secrets you have taught me.”
“Well, I’ll teach you something more before this drama has ended, young woman,” he said, with a touch of ice in his tones.
She gave an angry toss of her head and cried with sneering emphasis:
“Indeed!”
“Yes. I’ll show you, if you push me to it, what a return to the freedom of nature really means. I, too, have had some illuminations in the past months.”
She laughed again.
“Ah, Frank, you are a born preacher, and your threats are scarcely melodramatic; they are merely idiotic.”