This changed the look of cold pleasure in Woodward's eyes, which grew blank again. "Do you mean me to understand--Naturally, I took it for granted that you would act as most gentlemen act under the circumstances." "Then you have taken too much for granted, you and Betty. Ten years ago your sister gave herself to me. She is mine. I will not for a whim, for a passion, for a temporary alienation, let her go. Neither will I have my good name and the name of a good woman besmirched for the sake of this impertinent desire for a release. I love my wife"--his voice was especially Hebraic and especially abhorrent to the other--"and as a husband I mean to keep her from the ruin this divorce would mean to her--" "Far from being her ruin, Morena, it would be the saving of her. Her ruin was as nearly as possible brought about ten years ago, when against the advice, against the wishes of every one who loved her, she made her insane marriage with an underbred, commercial, and licentious Jew. She was seventeen and you seized your opportunity." Jasper had stepped close. He was a head taller and several inches broader of shoulder than his brother-in-law. "As long as you are in my house, don't insult me. I am, as you say, a Jew, and I am, as you say, of a commercial family. But I am not, I have never been licentious. Is it necessary to use such language? You suggested that this interview be conducted by us like gentlemen." "The man who refuses to give her liberty to a wife that loathes him, scarcely comes under the definition." "My ideas on the matter are different. We need not discuss them. If you will let me read my wife's letter, I think that we can come to an end of this." Woodward unwillingly surrendered the small, gray envelope to a quivering, outstretched hand. Jasper turned away and stood near the lamp. But his excitement prevented him from reading. The angular writing jumped before his eyes. At last, the words straightened themselves. I am glad that you have given me this opportunity to escape from a life that for a long time has been dreadful to me. Ten years ago I made a disaster of my life and yours. Forgive me if you can and let me escape. I will not see you again. Whatever you may have to say, please say it to Woodward. From now on he is my protector. In other matters there are my lawyers. It is absolutely not to be thought of that I should speak to you. I hope never to see you alone. I want you to hate me and this note ought to make it easy for you. Betty