“Thyrsis,” she said, in a low voice, “it means ruin!”
“Yes,” he answered.
And she clenched her hands tightly. “I will kill myself first!” she whispered. “I will not drag you down!”
He made no reply.
“Listen, Thyrsis,” she went on. “There is only one thing to be thought of. I must get rid of it.”
“Get rid of it?” he echoed. “How?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But women often do it.”
“I’ve heard of it,” he replied. “But isn’t it dangerous?”
“I don’t know,” she said, “and I don’t care.”
There was a pause.