, why can't you go
away!"

"To-day, I might have taken you at your word."

At the mention of Madeleine's name, she pricked up her ears. "Oho!" she
said, when lie had finished his story. "So Madeleine pays you visits,
does she?--the sainted Madeleine! You have her there, and me here.--A
pretty state of things!"

"Hold your tongue! I'm not in the mood to-night to stand your gibes."

"But I'm in the mood to make them. And how is one to help it when one
hears that that ineffable creature is no better than she ought to be?"

"Hold your tongue!" he cried again. "How dare you speak like that of
the girl who has been such a good friend to me!"

"Friend!" she echoed. "What fools men are! She's in love with you,
that's all, and always has been. But you were never man enough to know
what it was she wanted--your friend!"

"Ah, you----!" The nervous strain of the afternoon reached its climax.
"You! Yes!--that's you all over! In your eyes nothing is good or pure.
And you make everything you touch dirty. You're not fit to take a
decent woman's name on your lips!"

She sprang up from her chair. "And that's my thanks!--for all I've
done--all I've sacrificed for you! I'm not fit to take a decent woman's
name on my lips! For shame, for shame! For who has made me what I am
but you! Oh, what a fool I was, ever to let you cross this door!
You!--a man who is content with other men's leavings!"

"It was the worst day's work you ever did in your life. Everything bad
has come from that.--Why couldn't you have held back, and refused me?
We might still have been decent, happy creatures, if you hadn't let
your vile nature get the better of you. You wouldn't marry me--no, no!
You prefer to take your pleasure in other ways.--A man at any cost,
Madeleine said once, and God knows, I believe it was true!"

She struck him in the face. "Oh, you miserable scoundrel! You!--who
never looked at me but with the one thought in your head! Oh, it's too
much! Never, never while I live I would rather die first.--shall you
ever touch me again!"

She continued to weep, long after he had left her. Still crying, her
handkerchief pressed to her eyes, her body shaken by her sobs, she
moved blindly about the room, opening drawers and cupboards, and
heaping up their contents on the bed. There was a limit to everything;
she could bear her life with him no longer; and, with nerveless
fingers, she strove to collect and pack her belongings, preparatory to
going a