contempt. She feared the
dying man might have made some confession to me! I answered:

"No; not after our quarrel. But I hear he went to your house to kill
you! Not finding you there, he only cursed you."

She heaved a sigh of relief. She was safe now, she thought!

Her red lips widened into a cruel smile.

"What bad taste!" she said, coldly. "Why he should curse me I cannot
imagine! I have always been kind to him--TOO kind."

Too kind indeed! kind enough to be glad when the object of all her
kindness was dead! For she WAS glad! I could see that in the murderous
glitter of her eyes.

"You are not sorry?" I inquired, with an air of pretended surprise.

"Sorry? Not at all! Why should I be? He was a very agreeable friend
while my husband was alive to keep him in order, but after my poor
Fabio's death, his treatment of me was quite unbearable."

Take care, beautiful hypocrite! take care! Take care lest your "poor
Fabio's" fingers should suddenly nip your slim throat with a convulsive
twitch that means death! Heaven only knows how I managed to keep my
hands off her at that moment! Why, any groveling beast of the field had
more feeling than this wretch whom I had made my wife! Even for Guido's
sake--such are the strange inconsistencies of the human heart--I could
have slain her then. But I restrained my fury; I steadied my voice and
said calmly: "Then I was mistaken? I thought you would be deeply
grieved, that my news would shock and annoy you greatly, hence my
gravity and apparent coldness. But it seems I have done well?"

She sprung up from her chair like a pleased child and flung her arms
round my neck.

"You are brave, you are brave!" she exclaimed, in a sort of exultation.
"You could not have done otherwise! He insulted you and you killed him.
That was right! I love you all the more for being such a man of honor!"

I looked down upon her in loathing and disgust. Honor! Its very name
was libeled coming from HER lips. She did not notice the expression of
my face--she was absorbed, excellent actress as she was, in the part
she had chosen to play.

"And so you were dull and sad because you feared to grieve me! Poor
Cesare!" she said, in child-like caressing accents, such as she could
assume when she chose. "But now that you see I am not unhappy, you will
be cheerful again? Yes? Think how much I love you, and how happy we
will be! And see, you have given me such lovely jewels, so many of them
too, that I scarce