I hate you, I loathe you, I shudder at the
sight of you, I could not forgive you--never! You have ruined my
life. Shake hands with you! Who but a heartless and worthless woman
could propose such a thing?"
She shivered and shook at his wild words. She could not, as she
said, understand the vehemence of the passion that held the man.
He was more than half mad, and she was only half sorry. Forgive
the girl. She was only seventeen, just fresh from her governess.
She was quite innocent and ignorant. She knew nothing about the
reality and vehemence of passion; she thought that they had been
very happy together. Claude, to be sure, was ridiculously fond of
taking her hand; once he kissed her head to show the depth of his
friendship. He was such a good companion; they had had such a
pleasant time; it was a dreadful pity that he should be so angry.
Besides, it was not as if she liked the other man, who was old and
horrid.
"Good-bye, then, Claude," she said. "Perhaps when we meet again you
will be more ready to forgive me. Oh," she laughed, "it is so silly
that a man like you--a great, strong, clever, handsome man--should
be so foolish over a girl! Besides, you ought to know that a girl
can't have things her own way always.
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