Margot:  “He is free to love whom he likes; I don’t keep him, but I won’t share him.”

The lady:  “You don’t love him, but you want to keep him; that is pure selfishness and vanity.”

Margot:  “Not at all!  I would give him up to-morrow and have told him so a thousand times, if he would marry; but he is not in a position to marry any one.”

The lady:  “How can you say such a thing!  His debts have just been paid by God knows who—­some woman, I suppose!—­and you are rich yourself.  What is there to hinder you from marrying him?”

Margot:  “That was not what I was thinking about.  I don’t believe you would understand even if I were to explain it to you.”

The lady:  “If you were really in love you could not be so critical and censorious.”

Margot:  “Oh, yes, I could!  You don’t know me.”

The lady:  “I love him in a way you would never understand.  There is nothing in the world I would not do for him!  No pain I would not suffer and no sacrifice I would not make.”

Margot:  “What could you do for him that would help him?”

The lady:  “I would leave my husband and my children and go right away with him.”

I felt as if she had stabbed me.

“Leave your children! and your husband!” I said.  “But how can ruining them and yourself help Peter Flower?  I don’t believe for a moment he would ever do anything so vile.”

The lady:  “You think he loves you too much to run away with me, do you?”

Margot (with indignation):  “Perhaps I hope he cares too much for you.”

The lady (not listening and getting up excitedly):  “What do you know about love?  I have had a hundred lovers, but Peter Flower is the only man I have ever really cared for; and my life is at an end if you will not give him up.”

Margot:  “There is no question of my giving him up; he is free, I tell you ...”

The lady:  “I tell you he is not!  He doesn’t consider himself free, he said as much to me this afternoon ... when he wanted to break it all off.”

Margot:  “What do you wish me to do then? ...”

The lady:  “Tell Peter you don’t love him in the right way, that you don’t intend to marry him; and then leave him alone.”

Margot:  “Do you mean I am to leave him to you? ...  Do you love him in the right way?”

The lady:  “Don’t ask stupid questions . ...  I shall kill myself if he gives me up.”

After this, I felt there was nothing more to be said.  I told her that Peter had a perfect right to do what he liked and that I had neither the will nor the power to influence his decision; that I was going abroad with my sister Lucy to Italy and would in any case not see him for several weeks; but I added that all my influence over him for years had been directed into making him the right sort of man to marry and that all hers would of necessity lie in the opposite direction.  Not knowing quite how to say good-bye, I began to finger my cloak; seeing my intention, she said: