"Philip----"
"Stop! I must have my say. You have had yours. Have I no wrongs or sorrow? Am I not a partner in this shame thrust upon us?"
"But----"
"Frank, I will speak. You said a while ago, 'Bear with me.' Bear you now with me."
Bramwell made a gesture that he would hear him out.
"In the first wild burst of your anger you would have strangled this miscreant if you could have reached his throat with your thumbs--would you not?"
He was now speaking in his full voice, in tones charged with intense passion.
"I was mad then."
"No doubt; and I am mad still--now. I have never ceased to be mad, if fidelity to my oath of vengeance is madness. You know I loved her as the apple of my eye, and guarded her as the priceless treasure of my life; for we were alone--she was alone in the world only for me. Him I knew and loathed. I knew of his gambling, his dishonourableness, his profligacy. I knew she was weak and flighty, vain and headlong, open to the wiles of a flatterer, and I shuddered when I found she had even met him once, and I forbade her ever to meet him again. She promised, and although my mind was not at rest, it was quieted somewhat. Then you came. I knew you were the best and loyalest and finest-souled man of them all. Let me speak. Bear with me a little while."
"My life is over. Let me be in such peace as I may find." Bramwell walked slowly up and down the room with his head bowed and his eyes cast on the floor.