What cared I for aught but her?
It was a duel, fairly fought, and I was safe from censure.

God! in that hour it never came to me that it was foul murder; that I had stricken down an innocent man at the word of a harlot." He stopped, his white face buried in his hands, his slender form trembling.

I remained motionless.

With an effort he resumed.
"I went back to her at our trysting-place, intoxicated by my deed, confident she would come to my arms in gratitude.

Instead she laughed, tore from her face the mask of innocence, called me fool, boasted that she had merely used me for her own vile purposes.