"There is no wager."
Benilo started.
"What do you mean?"
"There was once a man who betrayed his master for thirty pieces of silver. But when his master was taken, he cast the money on the floor of the temple, went forth and hanged himself."
"I do not understand you."
A look of unutterable loathing passed into her eyes.
"Enough that I might have reconquered the man,—the love I once despised, had I wished to enter again into his life, the vile thing I am—"
Benilo leered upon her with an evil smile.
"How like Ginevra of old," he sneered. "Scruples of conscience, that make the devils laugh."
She did not heed him. One thought alone held uppermost sway in her mind.