Her great gray eyes actually flashed fire.
"Go!" she cried.

"Leave me this instant! Were you ten times my husband, you should never insult the memory of the best, the noblest, the most devoted of fathers! I will never forgive you the words you have spoken until my dying day!" "_You_ forgive!" he retorted, with sneering scorn, stung out of all generosity.

"Forgiveness is no word for such lips as yours, Lady Kingsland! Keep your guilty secret, or your father's or your mother's, whosoever it may be; but not as my wife! No, madame! when the world begins to point the finger of scorn, through her own evil-doing, at the woman I have married, then from that hour she is no longer my wife.
The law of divorce shall free you and your secrets together; but until that freedom comes, I command you to meet this man no more! On your peril you write to him, or speak to him, or meet him again.

If you do, by the living Lord, I will murder you both!" He dashed out of the room like a man gone mad, leaving her standing petrified in the middle of the floor.
One instant she stood, the room heaving, the walls rocking around her; then, with a low, moaning cry, she tottered blindly forward and fell like a stone to the floor.
The storm burst at midnight.

A gale surged through the trees with a noise like thunder; the rain fell in torrents.