isn't that at all. But all the same, you and Adela are quite complete
without me. Before you were married it was different. I was necessary to
you then. But I'm not now. And so--"

"Has Adela been saying that to you?"

Jack Burton straightened himself abruptly. His expression was almost
fierce.

Dot laughed at sight of it. "No, Jack, no! Don't be so jumpy! Of course
she hasn't. As if she would! She hasn't said a thing. But I know how she
feels, and I should feel exactly the same in her place. Now do be
sensible! You must see my point. I'm getting on, you know, Jack. I'm
twenty-five. Just fancy! You've sheltered me quite long enough--too long,
really. You must--you really must--let me go."

He was looking at her squarely. "I can't prevent your going," he said,
gruffly. "But it won't be with my consent--ever--or my approval. You'll
go against my will--dead against it."

"Jack--darling!" She went to him impulsively and took him by the
shoulders. "Now that isn't reasonable of you. It really isn't. You've
got to take that back."

He looked at her moodily. "I shan't take it back. I can't. I am dead
against your going. I know this country. It's not a place for lone women.
And you're not much more than a child, whatever you may say. It's rough,
I tell you. And you"--he looked down upon her slender fairness--"you
weren't made for rough things."