But she shook her head, rather sadly perhaps. The bright expression of happiness which had illuminated her countenance until that moment had died away and been replaced by a look of dull despair. The sun shone down upon her brightly, the birds were singing in the trees and all around was gladness, but she seemed troubled and oppressed as one heartbroken.
“No!” she answered in a low tone, her breast slowly heaving and falling. “If you have really escaped the enthralment it is enough. You may congratulate yourself.”
“Why?”
“Merely because you have avoided the pitfall set in your path,” she answered. “She was beautiful. It was because of her loveliness that you became entranced, was it not?”
“There is no necessity to conceal anything,” I said.
“You speak the truth.”
“And you had some illustrations of the evil influence which lay within her?” Muriel asked.
I recollected how my crucifix had been mysteriously reduced to ashes, and nodded in the affirmative, wondering whether I should ever succeed in obtaining knowledge of the truth which she evidently possessed.
“Yet you had the audacity to love her!” she laughed. “You thought that she—this woman whom all the world would hound down if they knew the true facts—could love you in return! It is amazing how a pretty face can lead the strongest-willed man to ruin.”
I rather resented her attitude in thus interfering in my private affairs. That I admired her was true; yet I was not her lover, and she had no right to object to any of my actions.