“What brought you here?” he said hoarsely.
She made no reply—only walked the faster.
“Tell me why you came?” he said. “I will never leave you until you answer me.”
She turned and looked at him. Fresh from that scene in the studio—with those words still ringing in her ears—even the great change she saw in his face did not move her to pity.
“I came,” she said, “on the eve of my marriage, to ask forgiveness of a man whom I fancied I had wronged. I am glad I came. I found him happy, and in society after his own heart.”
Her voice was cold and contemptuous. He quivered beneath her scorn. At that moment a cab passed. Eugenia called it.
“Leave me!” she said to Gerald. “Leave me! Our paths in life shall cross no more.”
He grasped her wrist. “Do you dare to reproach me? You! Eugenia, I told you it was life or death.”
“Life or death!” she repeated. “Death, at any rate, seems made very sweet to you.”