To-morrow he might be sorry; but to-day, this hour! She rose, not quickly, but with a dignity which only accentuated her beauty. If she delayed a day she would delay two days, if she delayed two days she would delay a week, and after a week things would be adjusted to submission forever. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. She had trouble outwitting him as he seemed to predict her words before he said them. It was horrible, but she must do it. "When is he to suffer?" she demanded, fixing her large black eyes, which burnt with an insane gleam, upon him. ‘You cannot read my mind at all, monsieur.
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