Page:Braddon--The Trail of the Serpent.djvu/148

144 earth's wide face, could not have bespoken a more intense abhorrence.

"There could not be a better time than this," she said, "to say what I have to say. You may perhaps imagine that to be compelled to speak to you at all is so abhorrent to me, that I shall use the fewest words I can, and use those words in their very fullest sense. You are the incarnation of misery and crime. As such you can perhaps understand how deeply I hate you. You are a villain; and so mean and despicable a villain, that even in the hour of your success you are a creature to be pitied; since from the very depth of your degradation you lack the power to know how much you are degraded! As such I scorn and loathe you, as we loathe those venemous reptiles which, from their noxious qualities, defy our power to handle and exterminate them."

"And as your husband, madame?" Her bitter words discomposed him so little, that he stooped to pick up a costly flower which in her passion she had thrown down, and placed it carefully in his button-hole. "As your husband, madame? The state of your feelings towards me in that character is perhaps a question more to the point."

"You are right," she said, casting all assumption of indifference aside, and trembling with scornful rage. "That is the question. Your speculation has been a successful one."

"Entirely successful," he replied, still arranging the flower in his coat.

"You have the command of my fortune"

"A fortune which many princes might be proud to possess," he interposed, looking at the blossom, not at her. He may possibly have been a brave man, but he was not distinguished for looking in people's faces, and he did not care about meeting her eyes to-day.

"But if you think the words whose sacred import has been prostituted by us this day have any meaning for you or me; if you think there is a lacquey or a groom in this vast city, a ragged mendicant standing at a church-door whom I would not sooner call my husband than the wretch who stands beside me now, you neither know me nor my sex. My fortune you are welcome to. Take it, squander it, scatter it to the winds, spend it to the last farthing on the low vices that are pleasure to such men as you. But dare to address me with but one word from your false lips, dare to approach me so near as to touch but the hem of my dress, and that moment I proclaim the story of our marriage from first to last. Believe me when I say—and if you look me in the face you will believe me—the restraining influence is very slight that holds me back from standing now in the centre of this assembly to proclaim myself a vile and cruel