The beautiful coquette became restless in her little home; she looked about sick at heart, unable to tolerate it any longer, only wishing to get the opportunity to leave it forever. Her eyes were full of scorn when looking at her husband, who could not supply her with all that she longed for just now, and for which she would have pledged the salvation of her very soul. She commenced to frequent public places in the absence of her husband.
How she loathed poverty! "Anything but that," she murmured to herself, her face white with disgust as she walked on, gazing in all directions to see one of her former acquaintances, with a strange unrest in her large eyes. Her opportunity would come; she was sure of that, and it came in meeting one day the rich Englishman who was introduced to her by one of her former friends and boon companions.
Shortly after this encounter, she received a letter from the Englishman telling her of the deep and lasting impression she had made on him and how he longed to see her again. Her face flushed with pleasure as she read all these, and then perused an invitation to take an automobile ride through the beautiful mountains.
For some time she sat dazzled, and then she looked at the poorly furnished rooms; at her own wretched outfit, and her eyes flashed indignantly.
"I am through with all this. Here is the opportunity I was longing for," she said with a contemptuous smile. "I'll show him—the young inexperienced fool I have married—that beauty counts for a whole lot and ... boldness even more."
She stopped at the window and looked down at the Englishman's automobile before her door.
"The opportunity—my opportunity has come." These words rang ceaselessly in her ears and filled her being with a strange endeavor to avenge herself on the man who could not supply her with all the luxuries she craved for, and according to her ethics, was entitled to.