'there must be trust between us, or nothing, I did not tell you this before. I thought you understood it. Now choose. Believe me, or we part—for always. I will never see you again.'
If I had not caught her, she would have fallen. She writhed about in my grasp, muttering quickly, her face and hands working, her eyelids quivering. I held her and looked at her steadily. I did not know what was the matter with her; but was decided that she must say she believed me, or we would part. Life with a woman who did not trust you, would be nothing short of the popular conception of hell.
At last she became coherent enough for me to gather that I had terrified her. Then she appeared to recognise me, and covered me with a hundred endearments, beseeching me over and over again not to leave her, or she would kill herself. I did not know how she loved me! Indeed, indeed, she couldn't help it! She always was jealous—from a child! If I would only kiss and be friends again, as we were before, she would never, never be jealous again. But that girl with the red hair was so forward-like, she didn't care what she did!
Weary of this, I sat her down on the sofa, and stood, half-turned away, before her. She went on in the same strain for a little, and then came a pause. Perhaps she was exhausted. I said:
'Well, Rosy, have you considered? I was not joking just now. I asked you to choose. Do you believe what I said to you about those two down there, or do you not? You know what your choice implies?'
'What?' she asked; 'what do you mean?'
I answered:
'I cannot live with anyone who thinks that I have told them a deliberate lie. If you think I have told you a lie, then I will leave you.'
'I don't think you told a lie. I never said I thought you told a lie.'
'Didn't you say just now you thought I had been laughing at that red-haired girl? '
'Yes, I said I thought you did.'
'And didn't I say I had not?'
