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 face of her great anger, “when did you even consider or spare anyone who might minister to your brutal instincts? I hate you, loathe you, despise you, and would sooner die than live for a moment under the same roof with you. This is my secret, Perseus—this is the horror I have kept from you. This man has made my life a hell. He is not a man, but a monster, a filthy, unclean creature for whom there is no word but hatred, no thought but detestation.”

She stopped, panting. A cold smile like the cracking of ice broke over Brenton’s face. But his heavy nether lip twitched ominously, and the gleam in his eye was coldly cruel.

“Spare these impassioned heroics,” he replied in a low, hard, grating voice. “I repeat, the cab is at the door. You seem to forget that you are my wife.”

“No, no, Perseus, don’t let him touch me,” she screamed, clinging excitedly to Vermont’s arm. “The man is a monster, and I will not go with him.”

Carey Vermont drew her aside, interposing himself between her and her husband. Brenton’s face flushed darkly, his hands opening