She watched him for a moment incredulously; then she broke into hysterical laughter.
"If you loved me could you have made me do what I've done? Love? You? But I know what real love is. It's written into that book. I've heard him talk. I'm full of his voice, of his face.
"It's the only fine thing about me. For the rest, we're shams, both of us—cheats—crooked—small, sneaking cheats!"
She stopped with a cry of alarm; the door behind her stood open and in the entrance was David of Eden. In the background was the ugly, grinning face of Joseph. This was his revenge.
Connor made one desperate effort to smile, but the effort failed wretchedly. Neither of them could look at David; they could only steal glances at one another and see their guilt.
"David, my brother—" began the gambler heavily.
But the voice of the master broke in: "Oh, Abraham, Abraham, would to God that I had listened!"
He stood to one side, and made a sweeping gesture.
"Come out, and bring the woman."
They shrank past him and stood blinking in the light of the newly risen sun. Joseph was hugging himself with the cold and his mute delight. The master closed the door and faced them again.