A Woman Scorned . . .

I can see, Oliver, that you no longer have need of me, seeing as how you've found comfort in the arms of another girl. I guess women are like handkerchiefs with you. This time you have wounded me too deeply, and I shall have nothing more to do with you.

I can only hope that this Maggie girl can tame your scurrilous heart!

Thank the Lord that I have rid myself of the barnacle named Shirley. It is such a relief that I no longer have to respond to a mad woman. The delusional people in this world need to be herded to places where they cannot hurt normal people. She says I wounded her. How can you wound someone you do not know? The depths of her supposed attachment are disturbing on multiple levels. Good riddance, you dreaded harpie!

Is this the way a gentleman rids himself of a lady companion, Oliver? You dismiss her with contempt and scorn? I have been told of how your father rid himself of his first wife, with an innocent son as well, to take up with a servant girl. As much as it kills my heart to say, you are like your father indeed, and I refuse to be associated with such a man as you. Goodbye, Oliver.

Yes Oliver, you CAN hurt those you don't know . . .