Othmar

by Ouida

'But if I do not do something great she will always say that I could not. She will always despise me.'

'Who?'

'His wife.'

'Othmar's?'

'Yes.'

'Ah!' said Rosselin; he understood the motives which moved her more completely than she understood them herself. 'Do not think of that capricious woman,' he said with irritation. 'Be sure that the day after she saw you she had forgotten that you existed.'

The colour rose to the face of Damaris.

'I wish to make her remember,' she said under her breath.

'Ah!' said Rosselin once more.

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