words, even though they be as sharp as sword-edges,
some sound may be got, some slight hope of salvation; but
silence, concealing hidden knowledge of a deed, is a coffin in
which, from the first hour of each day to the end of it, that
woman's pride will be placed with all that in her may still be
human. Contempt as silent as the grave! She will eat of his
millions, seasoned with his contempt. She will array herself in
his millions, interwoven with his hatred. Hatred? Oh, beyond
doubt he hates her with passion, and only at times does her name
move marvellously through his brain with such sounds as if they
were the echo of things very dear, things lost forever and
irreplaceable. Can it be? Is it possible that she did that?
Malvina, once an ideal maiden, and ten years later a woman so
loving that when he was going on a journey she threw herself on
her knees and wept, and then besought him not to go from her! He
remembers the scene perfectly.

Her hair of pale gold, dropping then in disorder to her shoulders
and bosom--her magnificent hair, surrounded by which the tears
flowing down her face glistened like diamonds! He raised his
head, straightened himself. What stupidity! On what sentiment and
exaltation is he losing time and energy! He needs them for
something else. He needs to concentrate all his forces to bring
his new designs to the desired culmination. Why does "that hound"
not show himself and bring the answer needed? Ah, if he could
only get one hour of that conversation, he would convince; he
would capture; he would overcome rivals, and seize into his own
sole possession new fields of industry and speculation! There are
hindrances, intrigues, dangerous rivalries, he knows of them, and
these oppositions it is precisely which attract him most of all.
Now especially, with those vexations and troubles, victory and
the new work would be as a spoonful of hashish to him, or a glass
of strong, invigorating wine. He must go to the club. A game of
cards, to which he devotes some night hours frequently, is not
specially pleasant, but he plays with persons of high position in
society, or with those who are needed in his business. He will
find perhaps, also, that man for whom he has been waiting,
vainly, some days.

He was extending his hand to the button of the electric bell when
from behind the portieres which half hid the door opening to the
interior of the mansion a thin and timid voice came; one could
hardly tell whet