"
"I wish you might," he uttered in a heartless tone. "You have been my
evil genius always, Iris Jounce. It was a sorry day that I married you.
You deceived me by leading me to believe that you had money."
"I know now that it was for money alone that you married me. I did have
money, and you spent it, and would now kick me aside, if I would only
permit it, but I will not, I mean to continue pleading until you consent
to quit your evil ways and settle down to a quiet home life--"
"Bah!"
"Andrew Barkswell, who was that beautiful girl? One you have deceived, no
doubt."
"You seem capable of answering your own question," he said, with a sneer.
"Have I answered it correctly?"
"Possibly."
He plucked at his mustache and looked into vacancy. He was deeply
angered, both with himself and with the woman before him. It was an
unfortunate thing to have Rose Alstine come upon them as she did.
At that moment the schemer felt like strangling this woman, whose love
for him, through good and evil report, passed understanding.
"You have not answered my question, Andrew," persisted the wife.
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