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 with her now. Even were her offences infinitely more serious than Brenton had suggested, she was still the woman who loved him, whom he loved. He had seen nothing monstrous in her, nor did he believe it to exist. Moreover, what of her explanation? Was he to wave it aside to credit the tale of this madman?

But how to circumvent the enemy? Brenton had maintained an attitude of scrupulous contempt; he had spoken, too, as a man of no wandering fancy. That the brute was strong in him that heavy jaw proclaimed. Vermont measured him coolly, carefully, as a thinking man might regard an onerous task before him. How far could he go? That she must not return to her husband was evident; that she would not he believed. Was reason to be entirely banished?

Almost like one in a dream he had listened to Brenton’s talk, yet ever on the alert to discover a flaw, the weakness of which he might take advantage. Yet he never discovered it. If this man was mad there was little to show it. Rather did he give the impression of one who was so sure of himself, so sure of ultimate victory, that he was ready to treat all opposi-