And that is revenge." "That conception of the Judgment is one that I cannot entertain," returned Manasseh.

"Man has made a god of the noblest of men, and has made him like those earlier divinities who slew Niobe's innocent children with their arrows." Blanka was sitting so far back on the stone railing that the artist felt obliged to warn her of her danger.
"Oh, I am protected by guardian angels," she replied, lightly.

She wished to learn whether one of those angels was then before her.

"I received this morning an anonymous letter," she continued, "and as it contains certain facts which only you could know, my first thought was that you had written it." "I assure you, I have never written you a letter," declared Manasseh.
"Please read it." She handed him the letter.
How quickly the young man's calm face flushed and glowed with passion as he read! The martyrs of old could forgive their enemies for the tortures inflicted on them; but could they also pardon the inhumanity shown to their loved ones?
Manasseh crumpled the paper in his hand with vindictive energy, as if he had held in his grasp the authors of that detestable plot.

Yet what right had he now to take vengeance on a man whom he had refrained from punishing on Anna's behalf?
Anna was his own sister, and as such a beloved being.