She raised her arms in a gesture that seemed to ward off his blows.
“You do despise me!” he insisted.
“Ah, that poor woman—that poor woman—” he heard her murmur.
“I spare no one, you see!” he triumphed over her. She kept her face hidden.
“You do hate me, you do despise me!” he strangely exulted.
“Be silent!” she commanded him; but he seemed no longer conscious of any check on his gathering purpose.
“He cared for you—he cared for you,” he repeated, “and he never told you of the letters—”
She sprang to her feet. “How can you?” she flamed. “How dare you? That—!”
Glennard was ashy pale. “It’s a weapon... like another....”
“A scoundrel’s!”