“I’m sorry for the way I’ve behaved, Frank.  It was silly and childish of me to struggle with you.  You irritated me, you see, by the way you spoke and the tone you took.”

“Oh, I don’t mind.  I don’t know much about women and I guess they’re queer.  We had to fix things up sometime and I guess there’s no harm in getting it over right now.”

“You’ve beaten me all along the line and I’m in your power.  Have mercy on me!”

“I guess you won’t have much cause to complain.”

“I married you in a fit of temper.  It was very stupid of me.  I’m very sorry that I—­that I’ve been all this trouble to you.  Won’t you let me go?”

“No, I can’t do that.”

“I’m no good to you.  You’ve told me that I’m useless.  I can’t do any of the things that you want a wife to do.  Oh,” she ended passionately, “you can’t be so hard-hearted as to make me pay with all my whole life for one moment’s madness!”

“What good will it do you if I let you go?  Will you go to Gertie and beg her to take you back again?  You’ve got too much pride for that.”

She made a gesture of abnegation:  “I don’t think I’ve got much pride left.”

“Don’t you think you’d better give it a try?”

Once more hope wakened in Nora’s heart.  His tone was so reasonable.  If she kept her self-control, she might yet win.  She sat down on one of the stools and spoke in a tone that was almost conversational.

“All this life is so strange to me.  Back in England, they think it’s so different from what it really is.  I thought I should have a horse to ride, that there would be dances and parties.  And when I came out, I was so out of it all.  I felt in the way.  And yesterday Gertie drove me frantic so that I felt I couldn’t stay a moment longer in that house.  I acted on impulse.  I didn’t know what I was doing.  I made a mistake.  You can’t have the heart to take advantage of it.”

“I knew you was making a mistake, but that was your lookout.  When I sell a man a horse, he can look it over for himself.  I ain’t obliged to tell him its faults.”

“Do you mean to say that after I’ve begged you almost on my knees to let me go, you’ll force me to stay?”

[Illustration:  FRANK GLIMPSES THE APPROACHING STORM THAT MEANS HIS RUIN.]

“That’s what I mean.”

“Oh, why did I ever trap myself so!”

“Come, my girl, let’s let bygones be bygones,” he said good-humoredly.  “Come, give me a kiss.”

She tried a new tack.

“I’m not in love with you,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice.

“I guessed that.”

“And you’re not in love with me.”

“You’re a woman and I’m a man.”

“Do you want me to tell you in so many words that you’re physically repellent to me?  That the thought of letting you kiss me horrifies and disgusts me?” In spite of her resolution, her voice was rising.