“Thank God for an honest woman!” cried Gerald.
“Gerald!” she murmured, stretching out her hands to him.
“Ah, you can do that to him!” he answered, pointing to George.
“I—I loved you,” she said.
“He’ll believe you, perhaps—or help you in your lies. I’ve done with you.”
He passed his hand over his brow, and went on. “I was easy to hoodwink, wasn’t I? Only a little wheedling and fondling—only a kiss or two—and a lie or two! I believed it all. And you,” he added, turning on George, “you spared her, you pitied her, you sacrificed yourself. A fine sacrifice!”
George put his hands in his pockets, and shrugged his shoulders.
“I shouldn’t go on before Mrs. Witt,” he remarked.
“Not go on! No, no. She’s so pure, so innocent, isn’t she? Worth any sacrifice?”