“Are you speaking to me?” she asked calmly. Thwart me, and I become your mortal enemy. You did not marry her because you loved her; you did not marry because she might have had money; you did not marry her out of gratitude; you did not marry her because you had to. Then she saw him. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. They struck her as cold and indifferent. "Where is it?" "Are you the mother of this child?" inquired the person who had first spoken, addressing Mrs. She took up the poker and stirred the fire vigorously. ‘I am done, Gérard. ’ ‘Very good, ma’am. I would like to talk to you about this—soon. His conscience, however, was entirely another affair.
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