"Oh, heavens, heavens!" exclaimed Anna.
"But you can see for yourself, you're mad. You see, you have nothing to say to justify your insults."
"Oh, Madonna, Madonna, give me strength," prayed Anna, wringing her hands.
"Do you see?" asked Laura. "You've called me here to vilify my innocence."
"Laura," said poor Anna, trembling, "Laura, it's no guess of mine, no inference, that you are my husband's mistress. I have not read it in any anonymous letter. No servant has told me it. In such a case as this no one has a right to believe an anonymous letter or a servant's denunciation. One cannot on such grounds withdraw one's respect from a person whom one loves."
"Well, Anna."
"But I have seen, I have seen," she cried, prey to so violent an emotion that it seemed to her as if the thing she had seen was visible before her again.
"What have you seen?" asked Laura, suddenly.
"Oh, horrible, horrible," cried Anna, remembering her vision.
"What have you seen?" repeated Laura, seizing Anna's arm.