There was a pause, in which each followed out a possible means of revenge.
"Now you see," he said. "When I got home—when I found that—I thought I should go mad."
Reminded thus, of his share in the matter, Louise turned her head, and considered him. Her face was tense.
"Forgive me!" said Maurice, and held out his hands to her.
She gave him another look of the same kind. "I forgive YOU. What for?"
"Because ... since I got it, I've been thinking vile things."
"Oh, that!" She moved away, and gave a curt laugh, which met him like a stab. But she had no consideration for him: she had only room in her mind for Krafft's treachery. "I could kill him," she said again. "Don't.... Leave me alone!"—this to Maurice, who was trying to take her hand. "Don't touch me!"
"Not touch you!—why not?" In an instant his softness passed over into suspicion: it was like a dry pile that had waited for the match. "I not touch you?" he repeated. "Do you want to make me believe that what he says there is true?"
"Believe what you like."
"But that's just what I won't do. Turn here! Look me in the face! Now tell me it's a lie."