"
"Hush, Cuckoo! We shall have Mrs. Brigg up, thinking I'm murdering you."
"Let her come! And you are, that's what you are, murderin' me, and worse,
seein' you go where you're goin'. He's takin' you. It's all him. Yes, it
is! He'll make you as he is."
"Cuckoo, I won't have it."
Julian spoke sternly and got up. The little dogs, alarmed by the tumult,
had begun to whine uneasily, and at his movement Jessie barked in a thin
voice. Julian went to Cuckoo, took her wrists in his two hands, and drew
her away from the door; but she tore herself from his grasp with fury,
for the touch of his hands gave a clearer vision to her jealousy of his
secret deeds, and made her understand better the depth of her present
feeling.
"You shall have it," she cried. "You shall. I know men. I know what
you'll be. I know what women'll make of you."
"A man makes himself," Julian interrupted.
"Rot! That's all you know about it. I've seen them begin so nice and go
right down, like a stone in a well. And they never come up again. Not
they. No more'll you. D'you hear that?"
"I shall hear you better if you speak lower."
Cuckoo suddenly changed from a sort of frenzy to a violent calm.
"You're different already," she said.
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