“If you don’t let me be, I’ll tell Nicholas, and he’ll be angry with you.”
“I’m not afraid of Nicco.”
“Oh, yes, you are. We all are. Even me,—and I’m his wife.”
“A pretty wife. Nicco can kill me if he likes; I’ll speak first. I know better what’s good for him than he knows himself. You’ve broken his heart.”
“Not me, Olver, not me only. His heart would have been broken anyhow. And God knows he’s breaking mine.”
“Who cares about yours? Nicco’s worth everything.”
“I know that, do you suppose I don’t know that? It’s making me mad, Olver. Can’t you have a little pity on me and leave me to myself?”
“I wouldn’t have any pity for you, not if you were dying.”
“Well, I shall be dying before very long, if that’s any consolation to you.”
“You aren’t the sort that dies. Nicco’ll have you stuck to him for years; he’ll leave you before you leave him.”