For some minutes he did not answer. At length,
with a nervous laugh, he replied:
"Of course. We have both made sacrifices, great sacrifices."
"It is odd," pursued Xantippe, gently, as if speaking to herself, "that
you should so flatter yourself. You professed to care for me once; you
only regard me now as a slave to earn money for you."
"It is for our son's sake."
"Is it for our son's sake also that you sit with Madam Marx, that you
drink her wine, that you kiss her?"
Gregorio could not answer. He felt it were useless to try and explain,
though the reason seemed to him clear enough.
"I am glad to have the chance," continued Xantippe, "of talking to
you, for we may now understand each other. I have made the greatest
sacrifice, and because it was for our son's sake I forgave you. I wept,
but, as I wept, I said, 'It is hell for Gregorio too.' But when I looked
from the window this afternoon I knew it was not hell for you. I knew
you did not care what became of me. It was pleasant for you to send
me away to make money while you drank and kissed at the Penny-farthing
Shop.
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