And I know you've been doing other things besides play a flute in an orchestra.

You!--as if I don't know you.

And then coming crawling back to me with your lies and your pretense.

Don't think I'm taken in." "I should be sorry," he said.
"Coming crawling back to me, and expecting to be forgiven," she went on.
"But no--I don't forgive--and I can't forgive--never--not as long as I live shall I forgive what you've done to me." "You can wait till you're asked, anyhow," he said.
"And you can wait," she said.

"And you shall wait." She took up her sewing, and stitched steadily, as if calmly.