“Cannot you place faith in one who declares herself ready to assist you?” he added.
She shook her head, holding her breath the while, and glaring at him with eyes full of abject fear.
“Why?”
“Ah! don’t ask me, George,” she murmured, with her chin sunk upon the lace on her breast. “I am the most wretched woman on earth, because I have wilfully deceived you. I had no right to love you; no right to let you believe that I was pure and good; no right to allow you to place faith in me. You will hate me when you know all.”
“For what reason?” he cried, dismayed.
“My life is overshadowed by evil,” she answered vaguely, in a despairing voice. “I have sinned before God, and must bear the punishment.”
“There is forgiveness for those who repent,” the woman observed slowly, a hard, cold expression upon her face, as she watched the desperate girl trembling before her.
“There is none for me,” she cried in utter despondency, haunted by fear, and bursting again into tears. “None! I can hope for no forgiveness.”
At that instant the door of the room was opened, and two persons entered unannounced. George and Liane were standing together in the centre of the saloon, while Mariette was still seated with her back to the door, so that the new comers did not at first notice her presence.
The men were Brooker and Zertho.