what you propose to do?"

He asked her that as one might make any commonplace inquiry, but his
quietness did not deceive Stella.

"What I said," she began desperately. "Wasn't it plain enough? It seems
to me our life is going to be a nightmare from now on if we try to live
it together. I--I'm sorry, but you know how I feel. It may be unwise,
but these things aren't dictated by reason. You know that. If our
emotions were guided by reason and expediency, we'd be altogether
different. Last night I was willing to go on and make the best of
things. To-day,--especially after this,--it looks impossible. You'll
look at me, and guess what I'm thinking, and hate me. And I'll grow to
hate you, because you'll be little better than a jailer. Oh, don't you
see that the way we'll feel will make us utterly miserable? Why should
we stick together when no good can come of it? You've been good to me.
I've appreciated that and liked you for it. I'd like to be friends. But
I--I'd hate you with a perfectly murderous hatred if you were always on
the watch, always suspecting me, if you taunted me as you did a while
ago. I'm just as much a savage at heart as you are, Jack Fyfe. I could
gladly have killed you when you were jerking me about back yonder."

"I wonder if you are, after all, a little more of a primitive being than
I've supposed?"

Fyfe leaned toward her, staring fixedly into her eyes--eyes that were
bright with unshed tears.

"And I was holding the devil in me down back there, because I didn't
want to horrify you with anything like brutality," he went on
thoughtfully. "You think I grinned and made a monkey of _him_ because it
pleased me to do that? Why, I could have--and ached to--break him into
little bits, to smash him up so that no one would ever take pleasure in
looking at him again. And I didn't, simply and solely because I didn't
want to let you have even a glimpse of what I'm capable of when I get
started. I wonder if I made a mistake? It was merely the reaction from
letting him go scot-free that made me shake you so. I wonder--well,
never mind. Go on."

"I think it's better that I should go away," Stella said. "I want you to
agree that I should; then there will be no talk or anything disagreeable
from outside sources. I'm strong, I can get on. It'll be a relief to
have to work. I won't have to be the kitchen drudge Charlie made of me.
I've got my voice. I'm quite sure I can capitalize that. But I've got to
go. Anything