"Virtuous woman, eh? Why, Mary Magdalen and all her poor little sisters will keep house in Heaven before you've finished being grilled in hell."
"Oh, pity me," she moaned, "have mercy!"
"The pity you gave Joe, who escaped you in death? The pity you show poor Sarde who can't escape? I'm fighting Sarde to get him cashiered before he has me expelled, but yet I'm sorry for him. At worst, he's a Canadian, one of the finest, manliest race on earth. Go, make yourself worthy to have a husband, and don't stay whining here."
"I daren't. He beats me!"
"And you've richly deserved it, eh?"
She looked up with a weak, wan little smile. "Oh, yes."
"You won't be flogged unless you earn it, eh?"
"N-no."
"Run away back to your quarters. Grasp life and its thorns turn soft."
"I daren't. Oh, save me, José."