o violently that her teeth chattered like a person in an
ague. "If you knew--if you could guess the repugnance, the horror of a
woman embraced by a man she loathes and despises! Her flesh creeps!
There are no words for it! And then--then to be told by that man's mad
vanity that she liked it, that she wanted it, that she brought it on
herself----"

"Just wait a moment," he said. "I believe that you hate me now all
right, whatever you felt then."

"I do, I do hate you," she answered, "and I have the power of proving
it. I can do you an injury."

"You will always have the power of injuring me."

"Be sure I will use it."

"I dare say you will."

"I have. I haven't wasted any time at all."

"What is all this about? What have you done?" he asked without much
interest.

She drew the letter out of the front of her dress and handed it to him
with a hand that trembled so much it made the folded paper rattle. He
took it, unfolded it, read it. Watching him, she saw no change in his
face until he looked up and smiled.

"Is this it?" he asked. "A lot I care about that--not to go into the
Simpson firm! You don't understand your power. The things that would
have made me suffer--well, if you had let prison break you, if you had
given your love to that crooked politician who came down to bribe me on
your behalf----Why, when you fell at my feet in the reception room at
Auburn I suffered more than in all my life before or since, because I
love you."

"Stop!" said Lydia. "Don't dare say that to me!"

"I love you," he said. "You don't have to go about looking for things
like this," and he flicked the letter contemptuously into the fire. "You
make me suffer just by existing."

"I won't listen to you!" said Lydia, and she moved away.

"Of course you'll listen to me," he answered, standing between her and
the door. "There isn't one thing you've done since I first saw you that
has given me the slightest pleasure or peace or happiness--nothing but
unrest and pain. When you're hard and bitter I suffer, and when you're
gentle and kind----"

She gave a sort of laugh at this.

"When have you ever seen me gentle and kind?" she asked.

"Oh, I know how wonderfully you could give yourself to a man if you
loved him."

"Don't say such things!" she said, actually shuddering. "It sickens me!
Don't even think them!"

"Think! Good God, the things I think!"

"Don't even think of me at all except as your relentless enemy. If it
were tr