"I wouldn't mind betting that you cleaned him out, and then heartlessly turned him adrift."
"You are insolent!"
"And I dare say you have had plenty of others since. What has become of the Jew?"
The woman's eyes flashed like a tiger's.
"I wish I had him here now!" she cried. "He deserted me—broke a hundred promises. I have not seen him for a week."
"You are suffering heavily for the past."
"For the past!" the woman echoed dully. "Victor," she said with a sudden change of voice, "you loved me once—"
"Yes, once. But you crushed that love—killed it forever. No stage sentiment, please. Understand that, plainly."
The brief hope died out of the woman's eyes, and was replaced by a gleam of hatred. She looked at the man furiously.
"There is no need to fly into a passion," said Nevill. "We can at least be friends. I cherish no ill-feeling—I pity you sincerely. And yet you are still beautiful enough to turn some men's heads. How are you off for money?"