I love her,
and what's more, I'm going to have her! You can't stop me. You haven't
the brains; you haven't the strength; you haven't the resources to match
that girl. She's brighter than you are. She's stronger, she's finer.
She's finer than the whole current day conception of society and life.
She loves me and she wants to give herself to me, willingly, freely,
joyously. Match that in your petty society circles if you can. Society!
You say you will have me drummed out of it, will you? A lot I care about
your society. Hacks, mental light weights, money grubbers, gamblers,
thieves, leeches--a fine lot! To see you sitting there and talking to me
with your grand air makes me laugh. A lot I care for you. I was thinking
of another kind of woman when I met you, not a narrow, conventional
fool. I thought I saw one in you. I did, didn't I--not? You are like all
the rest, a narrow, petty slavish follower after fashion and convention.
Well," he snapped his fingers in her face, "go on and do your worst. I
will get Suzanne in the long run. She will come to me. She will dominate
you. Run to Colfax! Run to Winfield! I will get her just the same. She's
mine. She belongs to me. She is big enough for me. The Gods have given
her to me, and I will have her if I have to smash you and your home and
myself and everyone else connected with me. I'll have her! I'll have
her! She is mine! She is mine!" He lifted a tense hand. "Now you run and
do anything you want to. Thank God, I've found one woman who knows how
to live and love. She's mine!"

Mrs. Dale stared at him in amazement, scarcely believing her ears. Was
he crazy? Was he really so much in love? Had Suzanne turned his brain?
What an astonishing thing. She had never seen him anything like
this--never imagined him capable of anything like it. He was always so
quiet, smiling, bland, witty. Here he was dramatic, impassioned, fiery,
hungry. There was a terrible light in his eyes and he was desperate. He
must be in love.

"Oh, why will you do this to me?" she whimpered all at once. The terror
of his mood conveying itself to her for the moment, and arousing a
sympathy which she had not previously felt. "Why will you come into my
home and attempt to destroy it? There are lots of women who will love
you. There are lots more suited to your years and temperament than
Suzanne. She doesn't understand you. She doesn't understand herself. She
is just young, and foolish and hypnotized. You have hypnoti