Page:The woman, the man, and the monster (IA womanmanmonster00dawe).pdf/272

 I looked down and saw him whirling through space; saw him clutch with fingers and toes the thin air as he twisted through it. Three thousand feet below we might have found his body if we had taken the trouble to look. Well, a man in the hands of a woman is like that bearer, and with as little hope.”

“Or a woman in the hands of a bad man?”

A superior smile of pity and contempt gave to his glance an unpleasant condescension; but Vermont was shrewd to see how the mind, perverted by passion, was yet given to speculation, nor was he slow to avail himself of the suggestion.

“Of course you have heard things? The awakening of pity is one of the arts least neglected by woman. When everything else fails she invariably resorts to tears. I know her so well; too well for my peace of mind. Between a woman and her tears lie all the depths of infamous disaster. One can almost hear them splash into hell!”

He ceased for a moment and seemed to listen, face eager, eyes aflame with expectancy. Vermont shuddered in spite of himself. The tension was horrible, intolerable. If at any