She faced him with a light he had never before seen in her eyes--a
light of insanity and of hatred.

"I walk like a wild animal," she said, "because I am one. You spoke a
moment ago of your hatred of me; but you are a man, and your hatred is
nothing to mine. Bad as you are, much as you wish to break the bond
which ties us together, there are still things which I know you would
not stoop to. I know there is no thought of murder in your heart, but
there is in mine. I will show you, John Bodman, how much I hate you."

The man nervously clutched the stone beside him, and gave a guilty
start as she mentioned murder.

"Yes," she continued, "I have told all my friends in England that I
believed you intended to murder me in Switzerland."

"Good God!" he cried. "How could you say such a thing?"

"I say it to show how much I hate you--how much I am prepared to give
for revenge. I have warned the people at the hotel, and when we left
two men followed us. The proprietor tried to persuade me not to
accompany you. In a few moments those two men will come in sight of the
Outlook. Tell them, if you think they will believe you, that it was an
accident."

The mad woman tore from the front of her dress shreds of lace and
scattered them around. Bodman started up to his feet, crying, "What are
you about?" But before he could move toward her she precipitated
herself over the wall, and went shrieking and whirling down the awful
abyss.