ion. It lowered her in his and her own because she had to fight
this way. Why did he do it? Why did he drag her into such a situation?
It was breaking down that sense of pride in himself which was the only
sustaining power a man had before the gaze of the world. Why did he let
himself into these situations? Did he really love Carlotta? Did he want
pleasure enough to endure such abuse as this? This was a terrible scene.
And where would it end? His nerves were tingling, his brain fairly
aching. If he could only conquer this desire for another type and be
faithful, and yet how dreadful that seemed! To confine himself in all
his thoughts to just Angela! It was not possible. He thought of these
things, standing there enduring the brunt of this storm. It was a
terrible ordeal, but it was not wholly reformatory even at that.

"What's the use of your carrying on like that, Angela?" he said grimly,
after he had listened to all this. "It isn't as bad as you think. I'm
not a liar, and I'm not a dog! You must have pieced that note I threw in
the paper box together and read it. When did you do it?"

He was curious about that and about how much she knew. What were her
intentions in regard to him? What in regard to Carlotta? What would she
do next?

"When did I do it?" she replied. "When did I do it? What has that to do
with it? What right have you to ask? Where is this woman, that's what I
want to know? I want to find her. I want to face her. I want to tell her
what a wretched beast she is. I'll show her how to come and steal
another woman's husband. I'll kill her. I'll kill her and I'll kill you,
too. Do you hear? I'll kill you!" And she advanced on him defiantly,
blazingly.

Eugene was astounded. He had never seen such rage in any woman. It was
wonderful, fascinating, something like a great lightning-riven storm.
Angela was capable of hurling thunderbolts of wrath. He had not known
that. It raised her in his estimation--made her really more attractive
than she would otherwise have been, for power, however displayed, is
fascinating. She was so little, so grim, so determined! It was in its
way a test of great capability. And he liked her for it even though he
resented her abuse.

"No, no, Angela," he said sympathetically and with a keen wish to
alleviate her sorrow. "You would not do anything like that. You
couldn't!"

"I will! I will!" she declared. "I'll kill her and you, too!"

And then having reached this tremendous heigh