"You know perfectly well what I mean--the way you are behaving
toward Rose."

"Are you trying to imply that I'm carrying on with her?"

"I certainly am. I'm not angry, Martin. I never was calmer than I
am right now, and I don't intend to say things just for the sake
of saying them. I only want you to know that I have eyes, and
that I don't want to be made a fool of."

To her surprise, Martin came over to her and, looking at her
steadily, returned with amazing candidness: "I'm not going to lie
to you. You're perfectly welcome to know what's in my mind. I
love her with every beat of my heart--she has brought something
new into my life, something sacred--you've always thought I cared
for nothing but work, that all I lived for was to plan and scheme
how to make money. Haven't you? I don't blame you. It's what I've
always believed, but tonight I've learned something." Mrs. Wade
could see his blood quicken. "She has been in this house only a
few days and already I am alive with a new fire. It seems as if
these hours are the only ones in which I have ever really
lived--nothing else matters. Nothing! If there could be the
slightest chance of my winning her love, of making her feel as I
am feeling now, I'd build my world over again even if I had to
tear all of the old one down." Martin was now talking to himself,
oblivious to his wife's presence, indifferent to her. "Happiness
is waiting for me with her, with my little flower."

"Your Rose of Sharon?" Her tone was biting.