e almost fiercely:

"I cannot try to guess what caused you to pretend you did not recognize
me when we met at Heronac. That first false step has created all this
hopeless tangle. I will not judge you, but only blame my own weakness in
falling in with your plan." He clasped his hands together rather wildly.
"I was so stunned with surprise to see you, and overcome with the
knowledge that I had just given Henry my word of honor that I would not
interfere with him, or make love to the lady we were going to see--a
Mrs. Howard, who was married to a ruffian of an American husband shut up
in a madhouse or home for inebriates! My God! Lies from the very
beginning," and he gave a little laugh. "I had forgotten for the moment
that you had said you would call yourself by that name, but I remembered
it afterwards. You had not decided if you would be a widow--do you
recollect?--and you wanted a coronet for your handkerchiefs and
note-paper!"

Sabine quivered under the lash of his scorn.

"You maddened me that afternoon and at dinner, too," he went on, "and I
made resolutions and then broke them. But each time I did, I was filled
with remorse and contrition about Henry--and I am ashamed to confess it,
I was madly jealous, too. At last, I saw you in the garden together and
knew I ought to go at once."

Here his voice broke a little, and he unclasped his hands. She raised
her head defiantly now, and flashed back at him:

"I understand you had admitted to being a dog in the manger--you were
always an animal of sorts!"

This told, he grew paler, and into his blue eyes there came a look of
pain.

"You have a perfect right to say that to me if you choose; it is
probably true. I am a very strong man with tremendous passions which
have always been in my race; but I am not altogether a brute--because,
although I want you myself with more intensity than I have ever wanted
anything in my life--I am going to give you up to Henry. I have been
through hell--ever since I came from France. I have been weak, too, and
could not face the final wrench--but I am determined at last to do what
is straight, and to-morrow I will instruct my lawyers to begin
proceedings, and I suppose in two months or less you will be free."

Sabine grew white and cold--her voice was hardly audible as she asked,
looking up at him:

"What made you come here to-night?"

He took a step nearer to her, while he reclasped his hands, as though he
feared that he might be