"Who's been telling you about my friends? What advice? I insist upon your telling me."
"Pooh—I'd rather not."
"But you shall—you ought to. It is mean of 'ee not to!"
"Very well." And he hinted gently what had been revealed to him. "But I don't wish to dwell upon it. Let us say no more about it."
Her defensive manner collapsed. "That was nothing," she said, laughing coldly. "Every woman has a right to do such as that. The risk is hers."
"I quite deny it, Bella. She might, if no life-long penalty attached to it for the man, or, in his default, for herself; if the weakness of the moment could end with the moment, or even with the year. But when effects stretch so far she should not go and do that which entraps a man if he is honest, or herself if he is otherwise."
"What ought I to have done?"
"Given me time... Why do you fuss yourself about melting down that pig's fat to-night? Please put it away!"
"Then I must do it to-morrow morning. It won't keep."
"Very well—do."
