“Clare, why are you so cruel to me? I have been ill because of your heartlessness.”
Clare answered him sternly.
“I thought I had got rid of you. Have you come back to plague me?”
“I tried to forget you,” said Gerald Bradshaw. “I went as far as Italy to forget you. I made love to many women to forget you. But I have come back. And I shall always come back, because you are my mate and I cannot live without you.”
Clare’s voice rang out in the room.
“God ought not to let you live. Every word you speak is a lie. You are a thief of women’s honor. Get away from my window, because your very breath is poison.”
The man was astonished, a little scared. “You did not speak like that once, Clare. You let me hold your hand. You trembled when I leaned toward you.”
“I was ill and weak,” said Clare, “and you tried to tempt my weakness. I was blind and did not see the evil in you. But now I am well and strong, and my eyes are opened to the truth of things. If you don’t go I will call my husband and he will throw you over that balcony at one word from me.”
Gerald Bradshaw laughed scoffingly.
“Your husband! I could kill him between my thumb and forefinger.”