MARGERY.

Against you, I do! Who are you to question him? Are your own hands clean?

GERALD [_drops back as if struck_].

Margery!

MARGERY [_holding out her hand_].

Good-bye!

GERALD.

Good-bye?

MARGERY.

I'm going home.

GERALD.

To Mapledurham?

MARGERY.

We'll say good-bye now.

GERALD.

Here--Margery?

MARGERY.

You needn't be afraid. There'll be no scene; I've done with tears.

GERALD.

You're [_chokes_] going to leave me?

MARGERY.

Yes.

GERALD.

For a few days, you mean?

MARGERY.

I mean, for ever. Gerald, I've had enough of half a home and only half a heart. I'm starving, withering, dying here with you! They love me there! Let me go back to them! Oh, what a world it is! To think that one can get the love of any man except the man one loves!

GERALD.

You have it, Margery!

MARGERY [_fiercely_].

I haven't.

GERALD.

If you only knew----

MARGERY.

I know I haven't! what's the use of words? Do you think a woman doesn't know when she's not loved, or is? When you first said you loved me, down in the fields yonder, do you suppose you took me by surprise? You had no need to swear. I knew you loved me, just as certainly as I know now you don't!

GERALD [_much moved_].

Oh, what a scoundrel I was, Margery!

MARGERY.

No man's a scoundrel to the woman he loves. Ah, it was easy to forgive your loving me. But I'll do something that is not so easy. I will forgive you for _not_ loving me. It's been a struggle. For the last fortnight I haven't said a word, because I wasn't master of myself, and I didn't want to speak till I'd forgiven you. I wasn't listening, Gerald. Heaven knows I would have given all the world not to have heard a word; but when you spoke my name, I couldn't move. The ground seemed slipping underneath my feet, and all the happiness of all my life went out of it in those three words, "Margery's hopeless, hopeless!"

GERALD.

Don't! don't! you torture me!

MARGERY.

Yes, Margery _is_ hopeless. Every sc.r.a.p of hope has gone out of her heart. I heard no more. It was enough. There was the end of all the world for me. [_GERALD groans._] But it was well I heard you. I should have gone blundering along, in my old madcap way, and perhaps not found it out till I had spoilt your life. It's well to know the truth; but, Gerald dear, why didn't you tell it me instead of her? Why didn't you tell me I was no companion? I would have gone away. But to pretend you loved me, when you didn't--to let me go on thinking you were happy, when all the time you were regretting your mistake--not to tell _me,_ and to tell someone else--oh, it was cruel, when I loved you so!

GERALD.

How could I tell you, Margery?

MARGERY.

How could you tell _her?_ How could she listen to you? I forgive _you,_ Gerald--I didn't at first, but now I understand that there are times when one's heart is so sore, it must cry out to somebody. But _she----_

GERALD.

It was my fault!

MARGERY.

You are mistaken there. It was your voice that spoke them, but the words were hers. It's she who's robbed me of your love! It isn't I who've lost it; she has stolen it!