FiftyfarmslikeourscannevermakeitgoodtoLorna。’
Hereuponensuedgrimsilence。MotherlookedatLizzie’sface，forshecouldnotlookatme；andLizzielookedatme，toknow：andasforme，Icouldhavestampedalmostontheheartofanyone。Itwasnotthevalueofthenecklace——Iamnotsolowahoundasthat——norwasiteventhedamnedfollyshownbyeveryoneofus——itwasthethoughtofLorna’ssorrowforherancientplaything；andevenmore，myfuryatthebreachofhospitality。
ButLornacameuptomesoftly，asawomanshouldalwayscome；andshelaidonehanduponmyshoulder；
andsheonlylookedatme。Sheevenseemedtofeartolook，anddroppedhereyes，andsighedatme。Withoutaword，Iknewbythat，howImusthavelookedlikeSatan；andtheevilspiritleftmyheart；whenshehadmademethinkofit。
’DarlingJohn，didyouwantmetothinkthatyoucaredformymoney，morethanforme？’