The leaping, fruitful sap of his being turned itself to gall.

He sat with a brow of blackness; cruel projects worked in his brain.
Not only had he lost her, but his loss was another's gain.

The pricking of jealousy, for a while suspended, again became maddening.

He had heard her say that she would die rather than be his wife; judge, then, what must be her love of the man she bud chosen.

His desire now was to do her injury, and his fiercest torment was the thought that he dared not fulfil the menace with which he had hoped to overwhelm her.