"Well," he said, "it is done now. The trap has closed behind you, and you cannot get out. What do you think of your life-sentence?"
A sudden determination came to her not to show fear. His manner was that of one grimly jesting. She answered playfully, "I think my jailer likes to tease."
"Well," he went on, "you walked into the snare with your eyes open. You knew nothing of me, did you, beyond the one glorious fact that I am rich? Nothing else mattered. My negligence, my rudeness, my neglect, could not drive you from your purpose. True daughter of Virginia Sheringham, you have made your bed, and now you must lie upon it."
His wife's eyes flashed, and her answer came clearly. "Pardon me! You say that I knew nothing of you but that you were rich. That is not true. I knew that you were a man of whom my own mother thought so well that she engaged herself to marry you. I knew also—or guessed—that you were lonely and unhappy. I could see that you were—lame."
"What?" he cut her off short. "You have the assurance to tell me to my face that my infirmity was a reason for your marrying me? You thought that you could elude the vigilance of a lame man—was that it? But though I limp I am no cripple. In fact, I am particularly active—active enough to guard you very carefully, as I warn you."
Bewildered, roused to hot indignation though she now was, Virginia felt her spirits rise defiant to meet this bullying tone. "A husband should guard his wife, and I hope you will guard me," she replied promptly, "but you speak as though you intended to hold me captive. What do you mean by that?"
"I mean," he said, measuring his words, and keeping his eyes steadily upon her, "to undertake the task of your reformation. I am going to turn you into something human—into a feeling, breathing, and, if necessary, a suffering woman. I am going to take away your false standards, to humble your vanity, to mortify your avarice. You shall see yourself, Virginia Gaunt, as you really are! Your outward beauty, upon which you trade, as your mother traded, is nothing to me but a whip, reminding me of the fool I was in my youth. I saw you first, using your lure, casting your net, hoping to secure young Rosenberg as your escape from poverty and debt. You nearly succeeded; you would have succeeded had not your friend belonged to a race which likes to have its money's-worth. You blush—yes, that shows the truth of my surmise. He would doubtless have been a more congenial solution of your problem than I; but he, alas, was not available! So you took me! And so you were very careful about the settlements! But there were things for which you forgot to stipulate—and those you must learn to do without!"
She was white now. Only her force of will kept her upon her feet. The insulting words stormed at her brain, and filled her with despair.
"You say this to me—to your wife. Is it fair, do you think?... I have not deceived you. You never asked me to give you love. I mean to keep my promises, without the goad of threats.... If—if I did wrong, in accepting what you offered, I am sorry. I want to do my duty, if you will help me ... but don't make it too—difficult."
"Excellent!" he commented. "A picture of wifely submission! We shall make something of you yet—perhaps in time. Meanwhile, it is as well to warn you that yours is to be no life of luxury. You must work, my girl—work, do you hear?"