"Betrayed them!"
"Well, gave me some information," he said lightly, puffing away my phrase.
"No. Betrayed them!" I persisted.
"Put it so, if you please," he replied, shrugging his shoulders and raising his eyebrows. "What is in a word?"
"You are the tempter himself, I think!" I cried in bitter rage--for it was bitter--bitter, indeed, to feel that new-born hope die out. "But you come to me in vain. I defy you!"
"Softly! softly!" he answered with calmness.
Yet I saw a little pulse beating in his cheek that seemed to tell of some emotion kept in subjection.
"It frightens you at first," he said. "But listen. You will do them no harm, and yourself good. I shall get them anyway, both the Duchess and her husband; though, without your aid, it will be more difficult. Why, help of that kind is given every day. They need never know it. Even now there is one of whom you little dream who has----"
"Silence!" I cried fiercely. "I care not. I defy you!"
I could think of only one thing. I was wild with rage and disappointment. His words had aggravated the pain of every regret, every clinging to life I felt.