"Such madness."

"Perhaps love is madness--the madness that makes
life worth the candle. I've never lived before the
past week."

"And you, the dainty, cultured, pious little saint,
will marry this--this----"

"Say it! I want you to be frank----"

"Perfectly frank?"

"Absolutely."

"This coarse, ugly, illiterate brute----"

"Jane Anderson, how dare you!" Mary sprang to her
feet, livid with rage.

"I asked if I might be frank. Shall I lie to you?
Or shall I tell you what I think?"

"Say what you please; it doesn't matter," Mary
interrupted angrily.

"I only speak at all because I love you. Your
common-sense should tell you that I speak with
reluctance. But now that I have spoken, let me beg of
you for your father's sake, for your dead mother's