He turns from her sullenly and looks out of the window at the blue, sun-gilded waves breaking in snowy foam against the shell-strewn shore.
"You could not let her suffer for a crime of which she is innocent," the pleading voice goes on.
"I suffered innocently," he says, shortly enough, without turning around. "Why did she make me a mark for the finger of scorn?"
"You can live that down," she answers. "But she, her very life is at stake. Do not forget that if she suffers the full penalty of the law, for this crime of which she is not guilty, her blood will be on your hands. You will, in the sight of God, and to my knowledge, be Maud's Langton's murderer."
Though he will not turn around, she sees the strong shudder that shakes his frame.
"You will be a haunted man," she goes on, relentlessly. "By day and by night you will dream of the girl you have slain. You will remember always that the golden head you hoped to pillow on your breast is laid low in a dishonored grave."
"For God's sake, Reine, why do you torment me so?" he cries, turning fiercely round upon her.
"For Maud's sake, and your own sake, and for humanity's sake, and my own sake," she retorts, bravely. "That Maud's innocence may be vindicated, that you may be saved from the evil consequences of your wicked revenge, that the world may see how divine a thing is repentance and forgiveness, and that I," her brave voice falls to a low, pathetic cadence, "that I may not have to die of shame because I have given my heart to one so lost to honor, truth and mercy."
Vane Charteris stands like one stunned a moment.