"
"For you too, Bella?" He looked up at her through tears.
She nodded her head, and her face worked. "Perhaps you could take
her back to her friends, Pete?"
"And leave Hugh? Didn't you hear what he said, Bella? Life and death!
It would kill him if she should go away with me. Or--he'd follow and
kill me."
"Yes," Bella assented somberly; "yes, he'd kill you. The devil is
still living in his heart."
"No. Sylvie will marry him. Hugh gets his will." Pete shook his head.
"Wait a few days--you'll see. She's fighting against him now; I don't
know why--some instinct. But though he tells her so many lies, he
doesn't lie about one thing. He loves her. He does love her."
"No! No!" Bella's passion, tearing its way through her long habit
of repression, was almost terrifying. "He loves the image she has
of him. If he knew that she could see him as I do, his love would
shrivel up like a flower in a drought. Hugh can't love the truth.
He can't love anything but his delusions. Pete, tell her the truth.
For God's sake, tell her the truth. Give her back her eyesight. Let
her know his name, his story--his _face_!"
"Don't dare ask me, Bella!"
"Why not?" She seemed to be out of breath, like a person who has been
climbing in thin air.
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