“Why?” Peter asked.
“He is dead,” she answered. “It is better so. I am not sorry. You should have seen his fear. It was pathetic.”
“Why did you do it?” Peter asked, with awe in his voice.
“I am someone else. Probably such a wife as you want. I am different. My other self has died even as my father has died.”
“God forbid! I didn’t know!” Peter gasped.
“Go!” she demanded.
“You would have killed the child. I had a premonition. That is why I followed you. You would have killed the child?”
“Yes, I would have killed it. Why not? It is only the emblem of my degradation. It would not have mattered. Death may have saved it much.”
“Clarinda!” Peter trembled from head to foot. His mind was in a whirl. He could not understand.
“It is useless. Go!” Clarinda turned her face from him and walked over to one of the windows that gave a view of the garden.