understand what my real feelings toward her were. My
soul was filled with a hatred as bestial as the love
against which it was a reaction. It was the savage,
murderous passion of the revolted serf. I could have
taken the crutch from her side and beaten her face in
with it. She threw her hands up, as if to avoid a
blow, and cowered away from me into the corner of the
settee.

"The brandy!" she gasped. "The brandy!"

I took the decanter and poured it over the roots of a
palm in the window. Then I snatched the photograph
from her hand and tore it into a hundred pieces.

"You vile woman," I said, "if I did my duty to society,
you would never leave this room alive!"

"I love you, Austin; I love you!" she wailed.

"Yes," I cried, "and Charles Sadler before. And how
many others before that?"

"Charles Sadler!" she gasped. "He has spoken to you?
So, Charles Sadler, Charles Sadler!" Her voice came
through her white lips like a snake's hiss.

"Yes, I know you, and others shall know you, too. You
shameless creature! You knew how I stood. And yet you
used your vile power to bring me to your side. You