ces to speak:

"Perhaps you think that all this is just, father? Why, then, don't you
ask me about it? I am his wife. Don't you believe that I am his wife?
Then I will bring little Noni here. Do you want me to bring little Noni?
He is sleeping, but I will wake him up. Once in his life he may wake up
at night in order to say that this man whom you want to hang in the city
is his father."

"Don't!" says Haggart.

"Very well," replies Mariet obediently. "He commands and I must obey--he
is my husband. Let little Noni sleep. But I am not sleeping, I am here.
Why, then, didn't you ask me: 'Mariet, how was it possible that your
husband, Haggart, should kill Philipp'?"

Silence. Desfoso, who has returned and who is agitated, decides:

"Let her speak. She is his wife."

"You will not believe, Desfoso," says Mariet, turning to the old
fisherman with a tender and mournful smile. "Desfoso, you will not
believe what strange and peculiar creatures we women are!"

Turning to all the people with the same smile, she continues:

"You will not believe what queer desires, what cunning, malicious
little thoughts we women have. It was I who persuaded my husband to kill
Philipp. Yes, yes--he did not want to do it, but I urged him; I cried so
much and threatened him, so he consented. Men always give in--isn't that
true, Desfoso?"

Haggart looks at his wife in a state of great perplexity, his eyebrows
brought close to each other. Mariet continues, without looking at him,
still smiling as before:

"You will ask me, why I wanted Philipp's death? Yes, yes, you will ask
this question, I know it. He never did me any harm, that poor Philipp,
isn't that true? Then I will tell you: He was my betrothed. I don't know
whether you will be able to understand me. You, old Desfoso--you would
not kill the girl you kissed one day? Of course not. But we women are
such strange creatures--you can't even imagine what strange, suspicious,
peculiar creatures we are. Philipp was my betrothed, and he kissed me--"

She wipes her mouth and continues, laughing:

"Here I am wiping my mouth even now. You have all seen how I wiped my
mouth. I am wiping away Philipp's kisses. You are laughing. But ask your
wife, Desfoso--does she want the life of the man who kissed her before
you? Ask all women who love--even the old women! We never grow old in
love. We are born so, we women."

Haggart almost believes her. Advancing a step forward, he asks:

"You urged me? Pe