He was snoring stupidly. She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. “There isn’t any way you could be worse than John. ’ She edged sideways a little more, her eyes on the pistol in his hand. You will torture yourself and torture her all through life; but in the end she will pour the wine of her faith into a sound chalice. And then, there would be the question of money. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. "Ireton, as you captured him, the reward is yours.
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