Her tremulous voice wavered and broke; then silence fell.
She remained kneeling in a suppliant position at the feet of the woman she had wronged so bitterly, her large blue eyes upraised in passionate appeal.
Cissy Carroll stood like a statue in front of the kneeling woman, her face death-white, her eyes sombre, with painful thought.
It was her hour of triumph.
Her enemy was delivered into her hand.
Her vengeance was assured, if she chose to take it.
Why should she not? she thought, in the first bitterness of the meeting with the woman who had wronged her so deeply.
Then something else came to her mind.
"'Vengeance is mine; I will repay,' saith the Lord."