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 just now. We do not know ourselves till temptation comes. Madame Ludérac could not have known that she was capable of murder until she saw her rival in her husband's arms.'

'I suppose not. No, of course she couldn't.—But there must have been something wrong about her all the same. It was so senseless, so vindictive of her, wasn't it? What I mean,' Jill pondered, her eyes on the fire, 'is that she didn't really love him enough.'

'Not enough! You do not know what you are saying! Not enough! It was because she loved him too well!'

'Not in the way I mean. If she had loved him in the way I mean, she would have been able to understand a little;—and even be sorry for him, however miserable he had made her.'

'Sorry for him! Par exemple! No, in such a case I can see myself take up the pistol! But I should have shot his mistress first! And I am one who can love, let me tell you!'

Jill looked up at that. The great devouring eyes were on her and made her think of an astronomical photograph she had once seen; the dark disc of the sun with flames flickering round it. She could not interpret their gaze, but had she been of a timid and retreating nature she would have shrunk from it. Jill, however, was not disposed at any time to turn back before a five-barred gate.

'If you killed them, it wouldn't be because you loved so much, but because you didn't love enough,'