d there for a minute facing each other, he on his knees and she
facing him the picture of unrepentant wickedness and fury. Being thus on
his knees, Mr. Tebrick was down on her level very nearly, and her muzzle
was thrust almost into his face. Her ears lay flat on her head, her gums
were bared in a silent snarl, and all her beautiful teeth threatening
him that she would bite him again. Her back too was half-arched, all her
hair bristling and her brush held drooping. But it was her eyes that
held his, with their slit pupils looking at him with savage desperation
and rage.

The blood ran very freely from his hand but he never noticed that or the
pain of it either, for all his thoughts were for his wife.

"What is this, Silvia?" he said very quietly, "what is this? Why are you
so savage now? If I stand between you and your freedom it is because I
love you. Is it such torment to be with me?" But Silvia never stirred a
muscle.

"You would not do this if you were not in anguish, poor beast, you want
your freedom. I cannot keep you, I cannot hold you to vows made when you
were a woman. Why, you have forgotten who I am."

The tears then began running down his cheeks, he sobbed, and said to
her:

"Go--I shall not keep you. Poor beast, poor beast, I love you, I love
you. Go if you want to. But if you remember me come back. I shall never
keep you against your will. Go--go. But kiss me now."

He leant forward then and put his lips to her snarling fangs, but though
she kept snarling she did not bite him. Then he got up quickly and went
to the door of the garden that opened into a little paddock against a
wood.

When he opened it she went through it like an arrow, crossed the paddock
like a puff of smoke and in a moment was gone from his sight. Then,
suddenly finding himself alone, Mr. Tebrick came as it were to himself
and ran after her, calling her by name and shouting to her, and so went
plunging into the wood, and through it for about a mile, running almost
blindly.

At last when he was worn out he sat down, seeing that she had gone
beyond recovery and it was already night. Then, rising, he walked slowly
homewards, wearied and spent in spirit. As he went he bound up his hand
that was still running with blood. His coat was torn, his hat lost, and
his face scratched right across with briars. Now in cold blood he began
to reflect on what he had done and to repent bitterly having set his
wife free. He had betrayed her so tha