'It is!' she cried. 'It is!' 'It may not--' 'I say it is!' she repeated in a kind of fury of rage, shame, and

impatience. 'Do you think that I who loved him, I whom he fooled to the

top of my pride, judge him too harshly? I tell you if an angel from

heaven had witnessed against him I would have laughed the tale to scorn.

But I have seen--I have seen with my own eyes. The man who came to the

door and threatened us had lost a joint of the forefinger. Yesterday I

saw that man with him; I saw the hand that held the pistol to-day give

him a note yesterday. I saw him read the note, and I saw him point

me out to the man who bore it--that he might know to-day whom he was to

seize! Oh shame! Shame on him!' And she burst into fresh weeping.

At that moment the chaise, which had been proceeding for some time at a

more sober pace, swerved sharply to one side; it appeared to sweep round

a corner, jolted over a rough patch of ground, and came to a stand.




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