And I--what shall I do?
I shall be no better than Mrs. Buzgago found out--no better than any one. And
you'll know that. Oh, Guy, can't you see?
HE. I see that you are desperately unreasonable, little woman.
SHE. There! The moment I begin to object, you get angry. What will you do when
I am only your property--stolen property? It can't be, Guy. It can't be! I
thought it could, but it can't. You'll get tired of me.
HE. I tell you I shall not. Won't anything make you understand that?
SHE. There, can't you see? If you speak to me like that now, you'll call me
horrible names later, if I don't do everything as you like. And if you were
cruel to me, Guy, where should I go--where should I go? I can't trust you. Oh!
I can't trust you!
HE. I suppose I ought to say that I can trust you. I've ample reason.
SHE. Please don't, dear. It hurts as much as if you hit me.
HE. It isn't exactly pleasant for me.
SHE. I can't help it. I wish I were dead! I can't trust you, and I don't trust
myself. Oh, Guy, let it die away and be forgotten!
HE. Too late now. I don't understand you--I won't--and I can't trust myself to
talk this evening. May I call tomorrow?
SHE. Yes. No! Oh, give me time! The day after. I get into my 'rickshaw here
and meet Him at Peliti's.
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