There was a moment’s hesitation on the part of the girl. Her cheeks took on color; she broke a bit of the sausage with her fork, but did not raise it to her lips. "I’m asking you a simple, plain question," Ann reminded her. "No, I don’t," Virginia answered, haltingly;—"that is, not now, not—" "Ah, I see!" the old woman cried. "The feeling died just as soon as you saw straight down into his real nature, just as soon as you saw that he’d treat you like a slave, that he’d abuse you, beat you, lock you up, if necessary—in fact, do anything a brute would do to gain his aims." "I’m afraid, now, that I never really loved him," Virginia said, a catch in her voice. "Humph!" Ann ejaculated. "I see. Then you went all the way over that lonely road to his house with just one thought in your mind, and that was to get that money for your mother." "As God is my Judge, Mrs. Boyd, that’s all I went for," Virginia said, her earnest eyes staring steadily at her companion. "Well, I’m glad it was that way," Ann mused. "There was a time when I thought you were a silly girl whose head could easily be turned, but I’ve been hearing fine things about you, and I see you are made of good, solid, womanly stuff. Now, I want to tell you the whole truth, and then, if you want to consider me a friend and a well-wisher, all right. I’m no better-hearted than the average mortal woman. The truth is, Virginia Hemingway, I hate your mother as much as one human being can hate another this side of the bad place. She’s been a thorn in my side the biggest part of my life. Away back when I was about your age, I got into just such a tight as you was in last night. For a long time afterwards I was nearly crazy, but when the prime cause of my trouble went off and married I begun to try to live again. I fell in love with a real good-natured, honest man. I wanted him to know the truth, but I never knew how to tell him, and so I kept holding off. He was a great beau among the girls of that day, making love to all of them, your mother among the rest. Finally, I give in. I couldn’t resist his begging, my friends advised it, and me and him was married. That was the beginning of your mammy’s enmity. It kept up, and when the truth about me finally leaked out she saw to it that my husband would not overlook the past—she saw to it that I was despised, kicked, and sneered at by the community—and my husband left with my only child. I sent up a daily prayer to be furnished with the means for revenge, but it didn’t do any good, and then I got to begging the devil for what the Lord had refused. That seemed to work better, for one day a hint came to me that Langdon Chester was on your trail. That gave me the first glimpse of hope of solid revenge I’d had. I kept my eyes and ears open day and night. I saw your doom coming—I lived over what I’d been through, and the thought that you were to go through it was as sweet to me as honey in the comb. Finally the climax arrived.