" Jack again seized the bar, and, dashing it furiously against the door, speedily burst it open. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. He delayed the blow till the fortunate conjuncture was past. You did not marry her because you loved her; you did not marry because she might have had money; you did not marry her out of gratitude; you did not marry her because you had to. She laughed softly, and leaned across the table. “I had found her at last, and she shot me.
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