s
feet, and all the golden weight of hair broke loose. But he did not
pause or spare her. He ground his teeth. No one could have recognized
in this maddened, passion-inspired man the pleasant, easy-tempered
Arthur of an hour before. His nature was stirred to its depths, and
they were deep.

"You miserable woman! do not kneel to me. If it were not unmanly, I
could spurn you with my foot. Do you know, girl, you who swore to love
me till time had passed--yes, and for all eternity, you who do love me
at this moment--and therein lies your shame--that you have killed me?
You have murdered my heart. I trusted you, Angela, I trusted you, I
gave you all my life, all that was best in me; and now in reward--
degraded as you are--I must always love you as much as I despise you.
Even now I feel that I _cannot_ hate you and forget you. I _must_ love
you, and I _must_ despise you."

She gazed up at him like a dumb beast at its butcher; she could not
speak, her voice had gone.

"And yet, when I think of it, I have something to thank you for. You
have cleared my mind of illusions. You have taught me what a woman's
purity is worth. You did the thing well, too! You did not crush me by
inches with platitudes, bidding me forget you and not think of you any
more, as though forgetfulness were possible, and thought a tangible
thing that one could kill. You struck home in silence, once and for
all. Thank you for _that_, Angela. What, are you crying? Go back to
the brute whom you have chosen, the brute whose passion or whose money
you could prefer to me, tell him that they are tears of happiness, and
let him kiss them quite away."

"Oh, Arthur--cruel--Arthur!" and nature gave way. She fell fainting on
the grass.

Then, when he saw that she could not understand or feel any more, his
rage died, and he too broke down and sobbed, great, gasping sobs. And
the frightened dog crept up and licked first her face and then his
hand.

Kneeling down, Arthur raised her in his arms and strained her to his
heart, kissing her thrice upon the forehead--the lips he could not
touch. Then he placed her on the seat, leaning her weight against the
tree, and, motioning back the dog, he went his way.

CHAPTER LVIII

Arthur took the same path by which he had come--all paths were alike
to him now--but before he had gone ten yards he saw the figure of
George Caresfoot, who appeared to have been watching him. In George's
hand was