“I’ve asked you not to—­”

“I know you have, but tonight I’m going to talk sense to you if I never do it again.”

She held out a hand in protest.

“Jimmie—­I—­”

“Yes, I am,” he interrupted.  “I hate to see you going on like this.  You’ve been away from Stafford for less than three months and, on the level, you look five years older.  Why don’t you go back to him?”

“I’ve told you why—­it’s a matter of principle.  You wouldn’t have me give up my principles, would you?”

He shrugged his shoulders as he replied dryly: 

“I don’t know about yours, but I can tell you this about mine—­if hanging on to ’em meant hard work, tired bones and an empty pocket while giving ’em up meant a fine house, a bully time and all the money I could spend, then I’d kiss my principles good-bye and pass ’em up without a quiver!  That’s common sense.”

She turned her head away.

“We don’t see things the same way,” she said quietly.

He rose from the chair and began to pace the floor in silence.  Then, turning on her suddenly he said: 

“I never understood why you quit him anyway.  Tell me, did he punch you?”

“Certainly not!” she exclaimed indignantly.

“Was he mixed up with another woman?”

“Another woman!  Robert?  The idea!!”

“Well, if it wasn’t one of them, in heaven’s name what was it?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” she replied simply.

He stopped short in front of her and folded his arms.  With as severe an air as he could muster he said sternly: 

“Perhaps not, but here’s something I can understand.  Why did I quit my job?  Because of you.  Who has brought us down to this?  You!  Who makes Fanny work harder than any hired girl in the city?  You!  Who has ruined my career?  You!  You and your selfishness!”

Taken aback by the suddenness of his denunciation, Virginia stared at him in surprise, as if not comprehending.

“My selfishness?” she stammered.

“Just that!” he sneered.  With pretended indignation he went on:  “And the things you were going to do for little Virgie!  She was going to have a governess; she was going to learn music and painting when she grew up; she was going to have a horse.  A horse!  Ha! ha!  The only horse she’ll ever have will be a clothes-horse!!”

Hurt in her most sensitive nature, Virginia listened to his words, each one of which fell on her with the weight of a blow.

“Please, Jimmie, please!” she cried.

But he had no pity; he was ready to inflict any suffering so long as it did not hurt himself and it accomplished his object.

“Yes,” he went on, “and she’ll have to do the same as Fanny does, break her back washing the things to put over it!  And why?  Because you think more of your ‘principles’ than you do of your relations.  Because you think only of yourself.  Because you’re selfish.  That’s why!”