bare of men--no, I'm sure it isn't," she added, for she saw anger rising
in the impulsive girl. "There are many who'd want to marry you, and it's
better to marry some one who loves you than to hold to one who doesn't
love you at all. Is it hate? He saved your life--and that's how you
came to know him first, and now you would destroy him! He's a great man.
He would not bend to his father's will, and so he was left without a sou
of his father's money. All because he has a conscience, and an
independence worthy of the best that ever lived. . . . That's the
soul of the man you are trying to hurt. If you had a real soul, there
wouldn't be even the thought of this crime. Do you think he wouldn't
loathe you, if you do this ghastly thing? Would any real man endure it
for an hour? What do you expect to get but ugly revenge on a man who
never gave anything except friendship?"

"Friendship--friendship-yes, he gave that, but emotion too."

"You think that real men marry women for whom they only have emotion.
You think that he--Carnac Grier--would marry any woman on that basis?
Come, ma'm'selle, the truth! He didn't know he was being married, and
when you told him it was a real marriage he left you at once. You and
yours tricked him--the man you'd never have known if he hadn't saved your
life. You thought that with your beauty--yes, you are beautiful--you'd
conquer him, and that he'd give in, and become a real husband in a real
home. Come now, isn't that it?"

The other did not reply. Her face was alive with memories. The lower
things were flying from it, a spirit of womanhood was living in her--
feebly, but truly, living. She was now conscious of the insanity of her
pursuit of Carnac. For a few moments she stood silent, and then she said
with agitation: