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448 (Have I touched her at last?)

"But, after all, I have conquered, I am Paul Vasher's wife, and you are only Helen Adair."

"Yes," I say, slowly, "only Helen Adair! but she has a pure heart, an unseared conscience, a fair name, and the entire perfect love of Paul Vasher in the past, in the present, and for ever."

An infinite content fills my voice as I speak, looking up, with happy eyes, at the blue vault of sky beyond us.

"I am husbandless, childless, lonely; but do you think I would change places with you?"

"Take care," she says, with a low wicked laughter lying under her sweet voice: "your good name, did you say? You are very proud and sure of yourself now; but take care, take care you don't lose it some day. All things come to him who waits, you know; and I could wait a long while to see your pride brought low."

"You judge others by yourself," I say, with contempt; "but I know that honour is of small account in your eyes. Here we set some small store by the commodity."

"Are you not afraid of meeting my husband again?" she asks, "It must be very hard upon you, poor thing!"

"We do not find it so, Madam."

"You have seen him?" she exclaims, thrown off her guard.

"Certainly. Is there anything so extraordinary in that?"

"Sooner or later you will burn your fingers," she says, rising.

"Thank you for your good advice," I say, taking up my basket with alacrity; "but I should say you wanted it all for yourself. You cannot be expected to understand me—or Paul."

"By the way," she says, looking in the glass at her own exquisite person, "how did you hear my husband is not proud of my son? Servants' gossip?"