as he? Oh, what punishment was terrible enough for
him? Surely--surely God would not allow him to escape! What was he?

These thoughts must have written themselves in the woman's eyes, which
were now awful to behold--eager, questioning, and malevolent. Bressant
forced a harsh laugh, as men will when they find themselves opposed by
impotent rage. Certainly Abbie had no other claim to be considered an
amusing spectacle. Had not her revengeful rage upheld her, she must have
swooned. But it was a hideous kind of vitality, unwholesome to
contemplate. Bressant laughed by main strength.

"You can't solace yourself even with that," said he, shaking his head.
"Up to three days ago I was as much in ignorance as you. It was no fault
and no concern of mine; you and Professor Valeyon chose to deceive
yourselves, and me. Nobody can be more innocent than I! Nobody can
regret more, on some accounts, that our relationship is no closer!".

In this last sentence the tone of mockery he had assumed was somewhat
overstrained; a suspicion of underlying sincerity grated through it.

"Don't say you didn't know!" said Abbie, in a guttural voice, clasping
and wringing her hands, and turning her head from one side to another;
"don't dare to say it! No--no! you did--you did! You did know it, and
God will punish you--God will condemn you! He must--He will!" She could
not endure to believe that, having been defrauded in her love, she was
to be defrauded also in her hate and thirst for revenge. She could live
by either; but to be deprived of both was death!

Bressant made no reply to her uncanny petition, and a silence followed.
Abbie stood wringing her hands, waving her head, and drawing her breath
sobbingly between her teeth. Was she the same woman--stately, and almost
beautiful--who had spoken so loftily and tenderly but a few minutes
before? Are human generosity and affection founded on no securer basis?
Her appearance was now revolting. Suddenly a thought struck her.

"Ah! but she--_she_ can't escape," she broke forth, seizing upon the
idea with a grisly eagerness of exultation. "You can't get _her_ away
from me; I know her, oh! I know her, and I condemn her, I hate her--God!
how I hate her. She shall never be forgiven--never, never. You can never
cheat me out of _her_, for I know her."

Abbie pressed both hands to her head.

"You had better hold your tongue, old woman," Bressant said, in a low
voice, and a deadlier passion than anger look