It is not my husband who has earned that name, Mr.Courtland." He looked into her face, but he spoke no word.

Even he--the lover--was beginning to see, as in a glass, darkly, something of the conflict that was going on in the heart of the woman before him.

She had uttered words against him, and they had stung him, and yet he had a feeling that, if he had put his arms about her again, she would have held him close to her as she had done before; she would have given him kiss for kiss as she had done before.

It is the decree of nature that the lover shall think of himself only; but had he not told Phyllis that his belief was that Nature and Satan were the same?
He was sometimes able to say, "_Retro me, Sathana_"-- not always.

He said it now, but not boldly, not loudly--in a whisper.