Now, as I ended, she sprang from the bed and faced me, but,
meeting my look, she shrank a little, and drew her long hair
about her like a mantle, then sought with trembling hands to hold
me off.
"Peter--be sane. Oh, Peter! be merciful and let me go--give me
time--let me explain."
"My books," said I, "have taught me that the more beautiful a
woman's face the more guileful is her heart; and your face is
wonderfully beautiful, and, as for your heart--you lied to me
before."
"I--oh, Peter!--I am not the poor creature you think me."
"Were you the proudest lady in the land--you have deceived me and
mocked me and lied to me!" So saying, I reached out, and seized
her by each rounded arm, and slowly drew her closer. And now she
strove no more against me, only in her face was bitter scorn, and
an anger that cast out fear.
"I hate you--despise you!" she whispered. "I hate you more than
any man was ever hated!"
Inch by inch I drew her to me, until she stood close, within the
circle of my arms.
"And I think I love you more than any woman was ever loved!" said
I; "for the glorious beauty of your strong, sweet body, for the
temptation of your eyes, for the red lure of your lips!" And so
I stooped and kissed her full upon the mouth. She lay soft and
warm in my embrace, all unresisting, only she shivered beneath my
kiss, and a great sob rent her bosom.
"And I also think," said I, "that, because of the perfidy of your
heart, I hate you as much as you do me--as much as ever woman,
dead or living, was hated by man and shall--forever!"
And, while I spoke, I loosed her and turned, and strode swiftly
out and away from the cottage.