"Now," she said, "you understand all. They must meet."
"He does not know who she is?"
"He does not. He only knows as yet that she is the daughter of Mrs. Gladney, who, he thinks, is a stranger to him."
"You know his nature. What will he do?"
"I cannot tell. What can he do? Nothing, nothing!"
"You are sorry for him? You"—
"Do not speak of that," she said in a choking whisper. "God gave women pity to keep men from becoming demons. You can pity the executioner when, killing you, he must kill himself next."
"I do not understand you quite, but all you say is wise."
"Do not try to understand it or me. I am not worth it."
"You are worth, God knows, a better, happier fate."