o behave as I wish?" He brought out a lean index finger
to emphasize his remarks. "And I am going to make you do it!" he said.

"I've a perfect right," she repeated.

He went on, regardless of her words. "What do you think you can do, Lady
Harman? You're going to all these places--how? Not in _my_ motor-car,
not with _my_ money. You've not a thing that isn't mine, that _I_
haven't given you. And if you're going to have a lot of friends I
haven't got, where're they coming to see you? Not in _my_ house! I'll
chuck 'em out if I find 'em. I won't have 'em. I'll turn 'em out. See?"

"I'm not a slave."

"You're a wife--and a wife's got to do what her husband wishes. You
can't have two heads on a horse. And in _this_ horse--this house I mean,
the head's--_me_!"

"I'm not a slave and I won't be a slave."

"You're a wife and you'll stick to the bargain you made when you married
me. I'm ready in reason to give you anything you want--if you do your
duty as a wife should. Why!--I spoil you. But this going about on your
own, this highty-flighty go-as-you-please,--no man on earth who's worth
calling a man will stand it. I'm not going to begin to stand it.... You
try it on. You try it, Lady Harman.... You'll come to your senses soon
enough. See? You start trying it on now--straight away. We'll make an
experiment. We'll watch how it goes. Only don't expect me to give you
any money, don't expect me to help your struggling family, don't expect
me to alter my arrangements because of you. Let's keep apart for a bit
and you go your way and I'll go mine. And we'll see who's sick of it
first, we'll see who wants to cry off."

"I came down here," said Lady Harman, "to give you a reasonable
notice----"

"And you found _I_ could reason too," interrupted Sir Isaac in a kind of
miniature shout, "you found I could reason too!"

"You think----Reason! I _won't_," said Lady Harman, and found herself in
tears. By an enormous effort she recovered something of her dignity and
withdrew. He made no effort to open the door, but stood a little
hunchbacked and with a sense of rhetorical victory surveying her
retreat.

Sec.11

After Lady Harman's maid had left her that night, she sat for some time
in a low easy chair before her fire, trying at first to collect together
into one situation all the events of the day and then lapsing into that
state of mind which is not so much thinking as resting in the attitude
of thought. Presently, in a vaguely