"Man, man, don't gnaw my heart away! Unsay your words! Have pity on me, and confess that it is a lie—a black, foul lie! Think of the horror of it—only think of it, and have pity!"
"It is true!"
Then Paul fell on his knees and caught his brother by the arm.
"Hugh, Hugh! my brother, confess it is false! Don't let my flesh consume away with horror! Don't let me envy the very dead who lie at peace in their graves! Pity her, if you have no pity left for me!"
"I would save you from a terrible sin."
Paul rose to his feet.
"Now I know it is a lie!" he said, and all the abject submission of his bearing fell away in one instant.
Hugh Ritson's face flushed.
"There is that here," said Paul, throwing up his head and striking his breast, "that tells me it is false!"
Hugh smiled coldly, and regained his self-possession.