"She drove me mad. I did n't know what I was doing."
"In just what way do you blame her?" inquired Monte.
"She would n't believe me," exclaimed Hamilton. "I saw it in her eyes. I could n't make her believe me."
"Believe what?"
Hamilton got to his feet and leaned against the wall. He was breathing rapidly, like a man in a fever.
Monte studied him with a curious interest.
"That I love her," gasped Hamilton. "She thought I was lying. I could n't make her believe it, I tell you! She just sat there and smiled—not believing."
"Good Lord!" said Monte. "You don't mean that you really do love her?"
Hamilton sprang with what little strength there was in him.
"Damn you, Covington—what do you think?" he choked.