"I deemed her quite other; I was a fool, a fool! I"-- he choked, and a sob shook him--"I thought she loved me.

I would have married her, I would so, by God." Sir Oliver swore softly under his breath.
"I believed her pure and good, and...." He checked.

"After all, who am I to say even now that she was not?
'Twas no fault of hers.

'Twas he, that foul dog Godolphin, who perverted her.

Until he came all was well between us.