You lie! You lie! You lie! I do not believe it." "You do not believe me ?" said Lydia, shrugging her shoulders.

"As if I had the least interest in deceiving you; as if one would lie when the life of the only being one loves in the world is in the balance! For I have only my brother, and perhaps to-morrow I shall no longer have him....

But you shall believe me.

I desire that we both hate that woman, that we both be avenged upon her, as we both do not wish the duel to take place--the duel of which, I repeat, she is the cause, the sole cause....

You do not believe me?
Do you know what caused your husband to return?
You did not expect him; confess! It was I--I, do you hear--who wrote him what Steno and Lincoln were doing; day after day I wrote about their love, their meetings, their bliss.