You were right in your surmise that my wife is a lady, and that I have been born a gentleman.

And now I will tell you why we are both here." Then, in broken words, with long pauses between, he told her the story of his own and Lady Barbara's home life, and of Dalton's perfidy with all the horror that had followed, Kitty's body bent forward, her ears drinking in every word, her plump, ruddy hands resting in her lap, her heart throbbing with sympathy for the man who sat there so calm and patient, stating his case without bitterness, his anger only rising when he recounted the incidents leading up to his wife's estrangement and denounced the man who had planned her ruin.
Only when the tale was ended did she burst out: "And I ain't surprised yer heart's broke! Ye've had enough to kill ye.

The wonder to me is that ye're walkin' around with yer head up and your heart not soured.

I been thinkin' and thinkin' all these months, and John and I have talked it over many a night; but we never thought it was as bad as it is.

And now I'm goin' to ask ye a question and ye must tell me the truth.