"Do not make any pretence with me!" he said half angrily. "Never
tell me you cannot love! ..."

"I HAVE loved!" she interrupted him. "As true women love,--once,
and only once. It suffices; not for one lifetime, but many. I
loved; and gave myself ungrudgingly and trustingly to the man my
soul worshipped. I was betrayed, of course!--it is the usual
story--quite old, quite commonplace! I can tell it to you without
so much as a blush of pain! Since then I have not loved,--I have
HATED; and I live but for one thing--Revenge."

Her face paled as she spoke, and a something vague, dark, spectral
and terrible seemed to enfold her like a cloud where she stood.
Anon she smiled sweetly, and with a bewitching provocativeness.

"Your 'passion,' you see, my friend awakens rather a singular
'reflex' in me!--not quite of the nature you imagined!"

He remained for a moment inert; then, with an almost savage
boldness, threw his arm about her.

"Have everything your own way, Ziska!" he said in quick, fierce
accents. "I will accept all your fancies, and humor all your
caprices. I will grant that you do not love me--I will even
suppose that I am repellent to you,--but that shall make no
difference to my desire! You shall be mine!--willing or unwilling!
If every kiss I take from your lips be torn from you with
reluctance, yet those kisses I will have!--you shall not escape
me! You--you, out of all women in the world, I choose..."