"There is another who should receive your confidence."
"You think so?" she cried bitterly. "Even if he could comprehend no single word of it? If he were sunk in debauchery from the very day of our marriage? From the moment of flight?"
"What!" exclaimed the thunderstruck chief trader. "What's that you say?"
Desirée tottered. "Let me sit down on this bench," she begged. "I'm weak somehow and—and faint."
Dunvegan leaned back against the store counter.
"God," he breathed—"no wonder!"
The woman looked up beneath the hand which soothed her hammering temples.
"You love Glyndon," Bruce burst out unguardedly.
Her fist descended viciously on the bench where she sat.
"No! My God, who could—now?" Vehemence, abhorrence, disgust, filled her voice.