'I shall continue to live, I suppose,' she replied, 'or I shall die, one of the two. It really doesn't matter which.'
There was a slight tremor in her voice, and emboldened by it he sprang up and tried to put his arm round her. She recoiled from him swiftly, thrusting him back.
'Don't touch me,' she cried wildly. 'Don't dare to come near me! I cannot answer for myself if you do; this shall defend me from you if necessary!'
And almost before he could realise it she had snatched a small, silver-mounted pistol from its case on a shelf hard by, and, holding it in her hand, she stood as it were at bay.
He gave a short, embarrassed laugh.
'You have gone mad, Delicia!' he said. 'Put down that thing. It isn't loaded, of course; but it doesn't look pretty to see you with it.'
'No, it doesn't look pretty,' she responded slowly. 'But it is loaded! I took care of that before you came in! I don't want to injure either you or myself; but I swear to you that if you come closer to me by one step, presume to offer me such an insult as your caress would be to me now, I will kill you!'
Her white figure was firm as that of some menacing fate carved in marble; her pale face, with the violet eyes set in it like flashing stars, had a marvellous power and passion imprinted on its every line, and despite himself he fell back startled and in a manner appalled.
'I have gone mad, you think?' she went on. 'If I had, would it be wonderful? To have one's dearest hopes ruined, one's heart broken, one's life made waste—is that not something of a cause for madness? But I am not mad; I am simply resolved that your lips, which have bestowed their kisses on "la Marina," shall never touch mine again; that your arms, which have embraced her, shall never embrace me, and that, come what will, I will keep my self-respect if I die for it! Now you know my mind, you will go your way; I mine. I cannot divorce you; for though you have murdered my very soul in me, brutally and pitilessly, you have not been "cruel" according to legal opinion. But I can separate from you—thank God for that! I cannot marry again. Heaven forbid that I should ever desire to do so! Neither can you; but you will not wish for that unless you meet with an American heiress with several millions, which you may have the chance of doing when I am dead—someone who has inherited her money and has not worked for it as I have,—honestly,—thereby becoming "unsexed!"'
He stood silent for a minute.