Do you understand? I risked his hatred for your sake! I knew that it was to risk his hatred! Better that than to share him with that hypocrite!—that parasite!—that low-born peasant girl!—No! No! Stay! Listen to me yet! It was for your sake! I could not bear to see you sacrificed to such a one!'
'Perhaps you believe that,' Jill muttered, pulling away her hand. 'Try not to think about it now. You've been through too much. You are not yourself. Try to rest, and forget all this for a time, if you can.'
'Forget it!' screamed the old woman suddenly, while her face suffered a horrible distortion. 'Forget what he has made me suffer! Only in my grave shall I forget it! Would God that I were there!' And as she uttered the cry she raised her arms above her head and clasped them over her eyes, and Jill, horrified, spellbound, heard that she sobbed savagely.
'Oh—don't. Don't. I beg of you. Try to be quiet.' Jill put out her hand to her, but drew it back. Madame de Lamouderie filled her with fear. She was horrible to see and hear. She stood there, her arms crossed before her face, her hands clutching at her white head behind.
'He kissed me! He loved me! All was well with us at last! He had forgotten her at last!' she cried. 'Qu'elle soit maudite! Qu'elle soit maudite!'
Casting a glance of terror upon her, Jill fled from the room.
