She can't go to her, poor girl. Mrs. Cullingham knows nothing
about it.
JINNY. Now don't you get too sympathetic--_that's very dangerous_!
AUSTIN. Look out, your imagination is peeping through the keyhole.
[_A moment's pause._
JINNY. [_In a sympathetic tone, the jealousy gone._] What is her
trouble, Jack?
AUSTIN. That, dear, I can't tell you now; some day, perhaps, if you want
me to, but not now. Only I give you my word of honor, it has nothing to
do with you and me--does not touch our life! And I want you to tell me
you believe me, and _trust_ me, and won't let yourself be jealous again!
JINNY. I do believe you, and I do trust you, and I will _try_ not to be
jealous again!
AUSTIN. That's right.
JINNY. You know that book of De Maupassant's [_They move away
together._] I was reading in the train the other day,--about the young
girl who killed herself with charcoal fumes when her lover deserted her?
AUSTIN. [_Half laughing._] This is apropos of what, please? I have
absolutely _no_ sympathy with such people.
JINNY. In America that girl would have simply turned on the gas.
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