"You see," she said, "how little you can do, after all. You might kill me, but you could not bend my pride; you could not incline my heart to one loving thought of you."
"So I perceive. Then you positively prefer open shame and disgrace, the scorn and mocking of the world?"
"Yes," she said; "I prefer it."
"You must hate me very much, Lady Studleigh."
Sudden passion flamed in her eyes.
"I do, indeed," she replied. "No woman ever hated man more."
"And yet I love you."
She turned from him with an air of haughtiest indignation. He followed her. Suddenly his eyes fell upon the white glittering bridal costume.
"What is that?" he cried, and his whole face worked with fury, indignation and anger.
Before she could interfere to stop him, he had taken the wreath and veil in his hands. He laughed as he held them in derision.