"You will see.

You don't care for her, she doesn't care for you, and you will see----" "Marian, take care! I can hear nothing said against my wife, even by you." "You prefer to hear it, then, from others ?" says Mrs.Bethune, leaning back against the railings that overlook the gardens beneath, with a strange smile upon her lips.
"I prefer to believe that there is nothing to hear"-- haughtily.
"You can prefer what you like," says she, with a sudden burst of rage; "but hear you shall!" She takes a step nearer him.
"I shall not," says Rylton firmly, if gently.

"She is my wife.

I have made her that! I shall remember it." "And she," says Marian furiously, "what does _she_ remember?
You may forget all old ties, if you will; but she--does _she_ forget ?" "Forget what ?" Mrs.Bethune laughs softly, sweetly, wildly.
"Are you blind?
Are you _mad ?_ Can you see _nothing ?"_ cries she, her soft, musical voice now a little harsh and strained.

"That cousin--have you seen nothing there ?" "You are alluding to Hescott ?" "Yes--to him, and--Tita!" "Tita ?" His brow darkens.