He eyed her wrathfully.
“But even that satisfaction is denied you by your church!”
“How you hate me!” She rose to her feet and faced him drearily.
His expression softened. “No, Claire. I never have hated you. You are mistaken. I even loved you once—as a sister.”
“As a sister!” She flung her hands out before her blindly. “My God, what a fool, what an ignoble fool you must think me! And I did it all for the best. You were so ill, so distraught. So unlike yourself. The doctors advised me to do it. And you asked me, yourself. There was no other woman! I was so young, I loved you. I had always loved you, Alexis. The gift of myself seemed small in comparison with your need. I never thought it would bring unhappiness to you. Women seemed to mean so little in your life.”
He stepped towards her uncertainly, a horrified question back of the anger in his eyes.
“But didn’t you know, didn’t you understand why I asked you?”
Cold perspiration broke over her quivering body. The claw-like dread clutched once more at her heart.
“What do you mean, Alexis?”
He laughed cruelly.