(She sinks on the
piano stool, and adds, as she buries her face in her hands and turns
away from him) Better for me if I had never met you!
CHARTERIS (rising indignantly). You ungenerous wretch! Is this your
gratitude for the way I have just been flattering you? What have I not
endured from you--endured with angelic patience? Did I not find out,
before our friendship was a fortnight old, that all your advanced
views were merely a fashion picked up and followed like any other
fashion, without understanding or meaning a word of them? Did you
not, in spite of your care for your own liberty, set up claims on me
compared to which the claims of the most jealous wife would have been
trifles. Have I a single woman friend whom you have not abused as old,
ugly, vicious--
JULIA (quickly looking up). So they are.
CHARTERIS. Well, then, I'll come to grievances that even you can
understand. I accuse you of habitual and intolerable jealousy and ill
temper; of insulting me on imaginary provocation: of positively
beating me; of stealing letters of mine--
JULIA (rising). Yes, nice letters.
CHARTERIS. --of breaking your solemn promises not to do it again; of
spending hours--aye, days! piecing together the contents of my waste
paper basket in your search for more letters; and then representing
yourself as an ill used saint and martyr wantonly betrayed and
deserted by a selfish monster of a man.
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