Page:The woman, the man, and the monster (IA womanmanmonster00dawe).pdf/278

 tion with the utmost tolerance. There was through it all a concentrated air of superiority which impressed even while it annoyed, an unshaken belief in the power and the right of his cause with which Carey Vermont believed he would have little difficulty in dealing.

“Can you understand,” he began tentatively, “that I have learnt to love this woman?”

“Quite well. She is the kind of woman a man would love, not knowing her.”

“What if she also should love me?”

“That would be doubly unfortunate. She will probably die in the gutter.” His lips curled sarcastically. Evidently the thought was not altogether unpalatable.

“Not while I live. Don’t you understand, Brenton? We are fighting for this woman’s soul—you and I.”

“Her soul! I doubt if she has one. Or if she has it is already lost. Or if not lost there is no one, except me, who can save it. Are you also beginning to see light ahead?”

Not much, he inwardly confessed; yet it was something that this man consented to argument.

“Shall we let her choose between us?”