"Say, why should I love you?" I replied, "when your bad temper and your jealousy lead you to disobedience, to crime—when you stir up quarrels and discords among us?"
At these reproaches Kondjé-Gul all at once drew herself up erect before me, and exclaimed passionately—
"Then you do not love me any longer?"
My questions had not reached their mark.
"This is not the time for me to answer you," I said. "I am now asking you to account for the act which you have just committed."
"Very well! If you love me no more, I want you to confess it, and I will die! What have I done to you, that you should prefer Hadidjé to me? Perhaps she is handsomer than I am, is she? If you think me ugly," she added, in a tone of concentrated despair, "tell me straight, and I will go and cast myself into the lake, and you shall see me no more!"
"But no! I did not say that," I replied, trying to cut short this diversion.
"Then what are you reproaching me for? Hadidjé loves you better than I do, perhaps?"
"Neither Hadidjé's sentiments nor mine have anything to do with the question. I am asking you about your violence, and the wound you have given her with the dagger!"
"Why did she tell me that you love her better than me?" she answered.