"Giles, thou art a fool!"
A moment ago Brent had been ready to take his sister into his confidence; but her frank speech angered him. Her great mistake lay in answering appeals for sympathy with advice.
"Margaret, thou art too prone to think that wisdom will die with thee. It is time thou didst take to heart the fact that I am Governor of this province, and responsible to God and Calvert alone for my ruling."
"The more the pity that so great a trust is fallen to so little sense."
"Thou hast a shrewd tongue, Margaret, and I have felt its lash often; but I think thou mightst spare it to-day. Surely, I have enough to try me."
"Ay, without conjuring up new troubles of thine own imagining."
"'Tis easy said, but hath little meaning. Is the murder of yonder priest of my own imagining?"
"No."
"Is Neville's knife falling from his garments my own imagining?"