let her fall from him she drew back panting, and deadly white;
while he, mad with rage at the blow, stood with flaming blue eyes, and
teeth clenched.

"Animal!" again she hissed, and then her words poured forth in a torrent
of hate. "Is it not enough that you were willing to sell yourself for my
uncle's money--that you were willing to take as a bargain--a woman whom
you had never even seen, without letting your revolting passions exhibit
themselves like this? And you dare to tell me you love me! What do such
as you know of love? Love is a true and a pure and a beautiful thing,
not to be sullied like this. It must come from devotion and knowledge.
What sort of a vile passion is it which makes a man feel as you do for
me? Only that I am a woman. Love! It is no love--it is a question of
sense. Any other would do, provided she were as fair. Remember, my lord!
I am not your mistress, and I will not stand any of this! Leave me. I
hate you, animal that you are!"

He stiffened and grew rigid with every word that she said, and when she
had finished he was as deadly pale as she herself.

"Say not one syllable more to me, Zara!" he commanded. "You will have no
cause to reprove me for loving you again. And remember this: things
shall be as you wish between us. We will each live our lives and play
the game. But before I ask you to be my wife again you can go down upon
your knees. Do you hear me? Good night."

And without a word further he strode from the room.

CHAPTER XVII

The moon was shining brightly and a fresh breeze had risen when Tristram
left the hotel and walked rapidly towards the pier. He was mad with rage
and indignation from his bride's cruel taunts. The knowledge of their
injustice did not comfort him, and, though he knew he was innocent of
any desire to have made a bargain, and had taken her simply for her
beautiful self, still, the accusation hurt and angered his pride. How
dared she! How dared her uncle have allowed her to think such things! A
Tancred to stoop so low! He clenched his hands and his whole frame
shook.

And then as he gazed down into the moonlit waves her last words came
back with a fresh lashing sting. "Leave me, I hate you, animal that you
are!" An animal, forsooth! And this is how she had looked at his love!

And then a cold feeling came over him--he was so very just--and he
questioned himself. Was it true? Had it, indeed, been only that? Had he,
indeed, been unbalanced and intoxicat