Her words burned into
me--into my heart! Had she been a man, I would have struck her
dead!
'You thought that you deceived me yesterday,' she continued,
lowering her tone, but with no lessening of the passion, the
contempt, the indignation, which curled her lip and gave fullness
to her voice. 'You plotter! You surface trickster! You thought
it an easy task to delude a woman--you find yourself deluded.
God give you shame that you may suffer!' she continued
mercilessly. 'You talked of Clon, but Clon beside you is the
most spotless, the most honourable of men!'
'Madame,' I said hoarsely--and I know that my face was grey as
ashes--'let us understand one another.'
'God forbid!' she cried on the instant. 'I would not soil
myself!'
'Fie! Madame,' I said, trembling. But then, you are a woman.
That should cost a man his life!'
She laughed bitterly.
'You say well,' she retorted. 'I am not a man--and if you are
one, thank God for it. Neither am I Madame. Madame de
Cocheforet has spent this afternoon--thanks to your absence and
your imbecility--with her husband.
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