firelight in her eyes.

"It is this, dear--don't try to take your hands away, I am going to
keep them; I must have you listen to me till I've quite done--it is
this, Francie: Love, as we very well know--I mean our sort of love--
is one thing, and marriage another--"

"WHAT? Oh, is THAT it? Ah, ah! I see now."

"Take your own case," said he, with a relentless air. "Haven't you
proved it up to the hilt?"

"Proved what?"

"That marriage is a failure."

"Of course, marriage is a failure when it is blundered into as I
blundered into mine, when I was too young and ignorant to know
a thing about it. That is not saying it would be a failure now."

"It would be a dead failure, Francie. I am absolutely convinced of it."

"Because you have grown tired of me! Because somebody else has got hold
of you behind my back! Because--oh, because you men are all alike,
thinking of nothing but the amusement of the hour, sucking a woman's
life-blood as if she were an orange, and throwing her aside like the
useless skin--without honour, without constancy, selfish, heartless,
treacherous--"

"Hush, Francie! Don't talk rubbish. I may be like other men--I've no