“God judge between you and me.”
The voice was half-stifled as with the choking bitterness of great shame. Malmain grinned in her corner, and leant her head against the door to listen the better.
“What of God!” said the man’s voice with a certain hot scorn; “what is God?”
“Take your knife and end it.”
“Madame wife, there is good in you yet.”
There was silence again, like a lull betwixt ecstasies of rain. Presently the woman’s voice was heard, low, sullen, shamed.
“Man—man, let me die!”
“Own me master.”
“You—you! How can I lie in my throat!”
“Is truth so new a thing?”