And God had sent this bitter grief, this awful despair upon her because she had presumed to take His authority in her own erring, human hands. It was but just; and she loved him—she loved him!
She acknowledged it with a ghastly delight that brought sickening anguish to her very soul. She loved this murderer!
But what was she that she should judge him? Surely she had been punished enough for sitting in judgment.
And now, what should she do?
Let him go to the ruin and death to which she had betrayed him? Lift no finger to prevent the crisis which she had wrought?
The thought maddened her.
The telegram was clutched between her fingers. Never pausing to consider, she turned and fled from the room down the hall to Jessica's door. She tore at the knob and flung it open.
Jessica was alone, fastening her white negligee at the throat. She turned, but was not kept long in suspense by her visitor.
"For the love of God, look—look!" Carlita cried, as she thrust the telegram before the eyes of her supposed friend.
And taking it calmly from the shaking hand, Jessica read it aloud: