These other matters haven't been so important to me--they really haven't--" He looked at her helplessly as she moved away to avoid him; he was distressed, nonplussed, immensely sorry.

As he walked to the center of the room again she suddenly suffered a great revulsion of feeling, but only in the direction of more wrath.

This was too much.
"So this is the way you talk to me," she exclaimed, "after all I have done for you! You say that to me after I waited for you and cried over you when you were in prison for nearly two years?
Your mistress! That's my reward, is it?
Oh!" Suddenly she observed her jewel-case, and, resenting all the gifts he had given her in Philadelphia, in Paris, in Rome, here in Chicago, she suddenly threw open the lid and, grabbing the contents by handfuls, began to toss them toward him--to actually throw them in his face.

Out they came, handfuls of gauds that he had given her in real affection: a jade necklace and bracelet of pale apple-green set in spun gold, with clasps of white ivory; a necklace of pearls, assorted as to size and matched in color, that shone with a tinted, pearly flame in the evening light; a handful of rings and brooches, diamonds, rubies, opals, amethysts; a dog-collar of emeralds, and a diamond hair-ornament.

She flung them at him excitedly, strewing the floor, striking him on the neck, the face, the hands.