"I suppose so. Why do you ask?"

"Because from what I know of his habits I should think it very likely
that he is listening behind the door," and she laughed faintly.

"You seem to have a good opinion of him."

"I have exactly the opinion of him which he deserves," she said
bitterly; "and my opinion of him is that he is one of the wickedest
men in England."

"If he is behind the door he will enjoy that," said Edward Cossey.
"Well, if he is all this, why did you marry him?"

"Why did I marry him?" she answered with passion, "because I was
forced into it, bullied into it, starved into it. What would you do if
you were a defenceless, motherless girl of eighteen, with a drunken
father who beat you--yes, beat you with a stick--apologised in the
most gentlemanlike way next morning and then went and got drunk again?
And what would you do if that father were in the hands of a man like
my husband, body and soul in his hands, and if between them pressure
was brought to bear, and brought to bear, until at last--there, what
is the good of going on it with--you can guess the rest."

"Well, and what did he marry you for--your pretty face?"

"I don't know; he said so; it may have had something to do with it. I
think it was my ten thousand pounds, for once I had a whole ten
thousand pounds of my own, my poor mother left it me, and it was tied