ly at
her, still clutching her hands. With a determined effort, Louise
wrenched them away.

"Don't you hear what I say? It's true--all true--every word of it!"

At the cruel repetition, he went pale, and after that, seemed to go on
growing paler, until his face was like a sheet of paper. A horrible
silence ensued; neither dared to let go of the other's eyes.

"My God!" he said at last. "My God!"

He sat down at the table, and buried his face in his arms. Louise did
not move; she stood waiting, her hands, which were red and sore,
pressed against her sides. And as minutes passed, and he did not stir,
she began in a vacant way to count the ticks of the clock. If he did
not speak soon, did not go on with what had to come, and get it over,
she would be forced to scream. A scream was mounting in her throat.

"When was it? ... How? ... Why?"

She made no answer.

He straightened himself, holding on to the table. "And if that letter
hadn't come, you wouldn't have told me?"

Again she did not reply. He sprang to his feet, interpreting her
inability to bring forth a sound as mere contemptuous defiance.

"WHY did you tell me? Did I need to know?" he cried, loudly, and, in
the confines of the room, his voice had the force of a shout. As she
still remained dumb, he leaned across the table and actually shouted at
her. "Any more?--are there any more? He won't have been the only one.
Tell me, I say! Good God! Don't you hear me?" The arteries in his
temples were beating like two separate hearts. As nothing he said would
make her open her lips, he snatched up her hands again, and dragged her
a few steps forward--this, to prove to himself that he had at least
bodily power over her. "How dare you stand there and say it's true! You
brazen, shameless----!"

She thought he was going to strike her, and moved her head quickly to
one side. The movement did not escape him; he was amazed at it, and
horrified by it. "You're afraid of me, are you? You expect to be
beaten, when you make a confession of that sort?" And as she kept her
head bent, in suspense, he shouted: "Very well, you shall have
something to be afraid of ... you--!" and lifting his hand, he struck
her a blow on the shoulder. It was given with force, and she sank to
the floor, where she lay in a heap, screening her face with her arm.
The first taste of his greater strength was like the flavour of blood
to a beast of prey. In her mind, she might defy him, physically he was