Blanche Walraven's spirit rose with the insult. She flung down the clothes and sat erect in bed, her black eyes flashing.
"Be it so! You never loved me less than I did you! You can not hate me more than I hate you! But, for all that, I won't go!"
"You shall go—and that within this week!"
"I tell you I won't! I dare you! Do your worst!"
"Do you, madame? Then, by Heaven, I accept your challenge! The law of divorce shall set me free from the vilest wife man ever was cursed with!"
She gave a gasping cry, her face ghastly white.
"Carl Walraven, you would not dare!"
"Would I not?" with a harsh laugh. "We shall see. You don't know what Carl Walraven is capable of yet, I see."
"Wait! wait! wait!" Blanche screamed after him, in mortal terror. "Tell me what you came here to propose."
"A separation, madame—quietly, without éclat or public scandal. Accept or refuse, as you please."