"Let's not talk about God," cried Lorelei. "That ceremony was scarcely legal, not to speak of religion or decency."
"You've lost your mind. You've changed completely."
"Yes, I have. You see, I wasn't a wife until yesterday—until Bob and I had an understanding; but I AM a wife now, and I suppose I'll never be a girl again. I've begun to think for myself, mother; I've begun to understand. I've had a suspicion that my old ideas were wrong, and they were."
"Fiddle-de-dee! You're hysterical. You can't make me believe you learned to love that man."
"I don't say I love him."
Mrs. Knight snorted her triumph loudly. "Then you mustn't live with him another moment. My dear child, such a relationship is—well, think it out for yourself."
Lorelei saw the futility of argument, but certain thoughts demanded expression, and she voiced them, as much for her own sake as for her mother's. "It's too late to talk about that kind of honor. But there's another kind. When I married Bob I sold myself; and all of us—I mean the family—knew that what I sold was counterfeit. He thought he was getting something more than my body, but we knew he wasn't, and now that we find we took bad money for a worthless article, how can we pretend to be swindled? When people try to cheat, and get cheated themselves, what do they do? If they're game they smile and take their medicine, don't they?"
It was plain that this form of logic impressed the listener not at all.
Lorelei continued:
"I've learned that marriage is more than I considered it, mother. It's an obligation. I intend to live up to my part just as long as Bob lives up to his. If he complained of the fraud we practised on him I'd be willing to leave him; but he doesn't—so the matter is out of our hands."
Mrs. Knight relieved her steadily increasing anger by a harsh outburst.