e we
were married, that I objected to a woman who worked for money. I had no
objection to _women_ who worked for money. That was no affair of mine. I
simply objected to make such an one my wife. I imagined, when you became
my wife, that you would make my hopes and my ambitions yours. Indeed,
you told me that you would. I was poor, and you were poor. You knew that
I would work for you with all my strength. And so I have done. When, a
little time ago, you suggested that you, too, should become a labourer
for hire, I told you, with such courtesy as I could command, that, to
me, the idea was nauseous. Perhaps I should have told you then, what,
indeed, I had told you before, and what I tell you now again, that
rather than have a wife who worked for money, I would have no wife. You
were perfectly aware of this. You were well acquainted with what I
thought and felt upon the matter. I do not say that my thoughts and
feelings were correct. Still, they were mine. You said you loved me. You
swore it every day. I never dreamed that, to you, my wishes were
nothing, and less than nothing. And that you should deliberately set
yourself to cheat me out of the fruits of what you well knew was the
labour and the longing of my life--"

"Not cheat you, Geoffrey--no, not cheat you!"

"Yes, cheat me! cheat me! I suppose that you sat upstairs and pretended
to keep the children quiet, while I sat down here and wrote. And for
every page I wrote, you wrote another, the object of which was to rob me
of the life-blood with which I had written mine. But far be it from me
to reproach you, Mr. Philip Ayre. You have won, and I--poor devil!--I
have lost. It is the fortune of war. I am without a penny. You have your
five hundred pounds. And, as it is quite impossible that I can consent
to be the recipient of charity from the woman who calls herself my wife,
I have the pleasure, Mr. Philip Ayre, of wishing you good day."

She sprang between the door and him.

"Geoffrey! What are you going to do?"

"I am going to live my own life. I am going to earn my own living under
the shelter of a roof for which I myself have paid. I am going to meet
you with the gloves off, in fair and open fight, not behind a hedgerow,
with a gun in my hand, Mr. Philip Ayre."

"Geoffrey, any--any hour I may be taken ill."

"What do you wish me to do? I will stay here until you are well, but
only until then, on the understanding that not a penny of your money is
to be used fo