his accustomed skill, but, though outwardly we were as before to
each other, from that day forward, though his vanity would never
let him see it, I was his bitterest enemy. If that had been all,
I wonder if I should have killed him? To live on terms of
intimate friendship with a man whom you hate is dangerous work
for your friend. Because of his belief in me as his admiring and
grateful protege and his belief in himself as my benefactor, he
was now utterly in my power. I could take my time and choose my
opportunity. Perhaps I should not have killed him, but I had
sworn to have my revenge--and there he was, poor vain fool, at my
mercy. I was in no hurry.

"Two years later I had to reconsider my position, for my revenge
was being taken out of my hands. Mark began to drink. Could I
have stopped him? I don't think so, but to my immense surprise I
found myself trying to. Instinct, perhaps, getting the better of
reason; or did I reason it out and tell myself that, if he drank
himself to death, I should lose my revenge? Upon my word, I
cannot tell you; but, for whatever motive, I did genuinely want
to stop it. Drinking is such a beastly thing, anyhow.

"I could not stop him, but I kept him within certain bounds, so
that nobody but myself knew his secret. Yes, I kept him
outwardly decent; and perhaps now I was becoming like the
cannibal who keeps his victim in good condition for his own ends.
I used to gloat over Mark, thinking how utterly he was mine to
ruin as I pleased, financially, morally, whatever way would give
me most satisfaction. I had but to take my hand away from him
and he sank. But again I was in no hurry.