"Silence!" she exclaimed, her breast heaving, her eyes darting lightning. "You—you coward! You dare to speak thus to me, a weak, defenseless girl, whom you have entrapped into listening to you! I dare you to utter them to him—him, the man you traduce and slander. You speak of love; you know not what it is! You speak of shame——" she paused, the word seemed to overcome her. "Shame," she repeated, struggling for breath and composure; "you do not know what that is. Shall I tell you? I have never felt it until now; I feel it now, because I have been weak enough to remain and listen to you! It is shameful that your hand should have touched me! It is shameful that I should have listened to your protestations of love—love! You speak of the shame which he would bring upon me! Well, then—listen for once and all!—if such shame were to befall me from his hand, I would go to meet it, yes, and welcome it, rather than take from yours all the honor which you could extend to me! You say that I am going to ruin and unhappiness! So be it; I accept your words—to silence you, learn from my own lips that I would rather bear such shame and misery with him, than happiness and honor with you. Have I—have I," she panted, "spoken plainly enough?" and she looked down at him with passionate scorn. He was white, white as death, his hands hung at his side clinched and burning; his tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of his mouth, and render speech impossible.
Her scorn lashed him; every word fell like the thong of a knout, and cut into his heart; and all the while his eyes rested on hers with anguished entreaty.
"Spare me," he cried, hoarsely, at last. "Spare me! I have tried to spare you!"
"You—spare me!" she retorted, with a short contemptuous laugh.
"Yes," he said, wetting his lips, "I have tried to spare you! I tried argument, entreaty, all to no purpose! Now—now you compel me to use force!"
She glanced at the door, though she seemed to know instinctively that he did not mean physical force.
"I would have saved you without this last step," he said, slowly, almost inaudibly. "I call upon you to remember this in the after-time. That not until you had repulsed all my efforts to turn you from your purpose—not until you had lashed me with your scorn and contempt, did I take up this last weapon. If in using it—though I use it as mercifully as I can—it turns and wounds you, bear this in mind, that not until the last did I direct it against you!"
Stella put her hand to her lips; they were trembling with excitement.
"I will not hear another word," she said. "I care as little for your threat—this is a threat——"
"It is a threat," he said, with deadly calmness.