"But, Snyder, I am happy!" Doré said. Yet the words seemed to her heavy, there in the shadowy room, watching, amazed, the agony of affection and terror that shook the woman.
"Happy!" cried Snyder, with a mocking laugh. "God! Do you know what you are doing?"
"Yes, yes, I know!" Suddenly a thought struck her, and she added hastily: "Snyder, you are wrong! It isn't Massingale. It's I who have done it all!"
"That's what you think!"
"No, no; it's so!"
"Where are you going?"
"I don't know!"
"When?"
"To-night!"
"And after?"