“He couldn’t!”
“He left me two years ago in a rage and swore it was over for good and all; and he couldn’t have said such things to me if he had not hated me.”
“And you—do you hate him?”
“Of course not!” and again the flickering fire showed off her blushes.
“Did you say nothing to him but nice things?”
“We-ll, not exactly,—but he said the things he said first.”
“Were the things he said worse than the things you said?”
“No!” with a toss of her independent head, “I gave him back as good as he sent.”
“You shouldn’t have done it. You knew how the things he said hurt, and with your superior knowledge of what it meant to be wounded, you were cruel to hurt him so.”
“But he should have known! That kind of philosophy is above me. Suppose the Allies conducted their warfare under those principles, what would become of us? Germany hit first and France and Belgium knew how it hurt, and so they should not have hit back. There is a big hole in your reasoning, honey.”