Verplank, his hands clenched, the look of an executioner about him, threw at her:
“For six months I have been looking for you. I am come to have you tell me why I have had to look at all.”
“Dies irae, dies illa,” admirably, in a clear contralto, a woman’s voice rang out.
Neither heard it. At the menace of the man, Leilah shrank, and in an effort at defense cried pitiably:
“Gulian! I left a letter for you.”
Angrily he tossed his head.
“I received none, nor did I need any to tell me that there are women on the street, others in jail, that are less vile than you.”
“Teste David cum Sibylla,” clearly and beautifully the voice resumed.
“Gulian!” Leilah cried again.
With whips in his words, he added: