“I loved you,” he said, hoarsely, “and I trusted you.... I thought you were good and honest. I trusted you, do you understand? Trusted you and believed in you.” Words were coming more easily now, and with facility in speech returned what he fancied to be his righteous anger. “I was a fool.... I thought that you, even brought up in this city, in this way of life, could be good and faithful.... You fooled me—I should have known better. It was my own fault.... But I’ve got my lesson. I’ve seen. I know now.... I loved you—I was all ready to love you—but I despise you.... Do you understand? I despise you. You are bad—bad. You said you loved me and you gave me your love—and it was all a lie.... How many other men are you telling the same thing? Is every day given to somebody?” He was bitter now, cruelly bitter. She did not speak, but stared up at him as though she did not believe, at least as if she did not understand. Her face was pitiful in its surprise and pain. Motionless, without movement or gesture, she stood and looked up into his face as a dog might look into the face of his master, knowing that master is about to shoot him to death. “I never want to see you again. I want to forget you. I wish I could forget that I ever saw you and all that has happened. Probably it doesn’t matter to you. Maybe you don’t see any harm in what you’ve done—but it was squalid and contemptible.” His voice rose with his anger and she shrank back from him. Bert, startled, came hurrying into the room and stopped with amazement. “Ken,” he exclaimed, “easy ... easy. What’s all this?” “Please go away, Bert.... I’m telling her what I think of her.... Go away.” Bert looked curiously at Andree, who did not move her eyes from Kendall’s face, and then he shook his head. “No need to shout,” he said. “You’re excited, old man.” He turned to Andree. “You mustn’t mind him. He’s wrought up about something.” Andree did not appear to notice that Bert was present. He laid his hand on Kendall’s arm. “Come along,” he said. “Don’t say something you’ll be sorry for.... If you want Andree to go away, I’ll take her.... Come on into your room.” He was really apprehensive, for Kendall’s eyes glowed somberly, his face was convulsed with toxic emotion. Ken shook off his friend’s hand. “Leave me be.... This is my affair.” He pointed to the door. “Go!...” he said to Andree, his voice quivering. “You don’t know what you’ve done—what miserable thing you’ve done.... I despise you.... I despise you....” Bert stepped forward and touched her arm. “You’d better go, I guess,” he said in a low tone. “Ken’s pretty excited. Let me take you down.” His voice was sympathetic. Andree did not move. “Oh, I do not onderstan’.... I do not onderstan’ ...” she said, like a frightened child. “Don’t lie,” said Kendall, furiously. “Go!... And never come back.... I’ll never see you again.”