ut I--I knew you,
and in spite of your fine motto on the envelopes of your letters,
on your seal, your sleeve-links, your hat-bands, the doors of your
carriage, I always saw the rascal you are."

Her voice hissed through her teeth, clinched by an incredible ferocity
of expression, and Paul expected some furious revolt of Jenkins under so
many insults. But this hate and contempt of the woman he loved must have
given him more sorrow than anger, for he answered softly, in a tone of
wounded gentleness:

"Oh! you are cruel. If you knew the pain you are giving me! Hypocrite!
yes, it is true; but I was not born like that. One is forced into it by
the difficulties of life. When one has the wind against one, and wishes
to advance, one tacks. I have tacked. Lay the blame on my miserable
beginnings, my false entry into existence, and agree at least that one
thing in me has never lied--my passion! Nothing has been able to kill
it--neither your disdain, nor your abuse, nor all that I have read in
your eyes, which for so many years have not once smiled at me. It is
still my passion which gives me the strength, even after what I have
just heard, to tell you why I am here. Listen! You told me once that you
wanted a husband--some one who would watch over you during your work,
who would take over some of the duties of the poor Crenmitz. Those were
your own words, which wounded me then because I was not free. Now all
that is changed. Will you marry me, Felicia?"

"And your wife?" cried the young girl, while Paul was asking himself the
same question.

"My wife is dead."

"Dead? Mme. Jenkins? Is it true?"

"You never knew her of whom I speak. The other was not my wife. When
I met her I was already married in Ireland--years before. A horrible
forced marriage. My dear, when I was twenty-five I was confronted with
this alternative: a debtor's prison or Miss Strang, an ugly and gouty
old maid, sister of the usurer who had lent me five hundred pounds to
pay for my medical studies. I preferred the prison; but after weeks and
months I came to the end of my courage, and I married Miss Strang, who
brought me for dowry--my note of hand. You can guess what my life was
between these two monsters who adored each other. A jealous, impotent
wife. The brother spied on me, following me everywhere. I should have
gone away, but one thing kept me there. The usurer was said to be very
rich. I wished to have some return for my cowardice. You see, I tell y