Spentoli tried to ruin me,
but I dodged him, and then--when he trapped me--the hell-hound--I did my
best--to murder him!" The breath suddenly whistled through her teeth. "I
tried to stab him to the heart. God knows I tried! But--I suppose it
wasn't in the right place, for I didn't get there. I left him for
dead--I thought he was dead--till that day in Paris. And ever since--it's
been just a nightmare fight for life--and safety. I'd have tried some
other dodge if you hadn't found me. I was not quite down and out. But
you--you made all the difference. I had to go to you."
"And why?" said Charles Rex.
She rushed on regardless of question. The flood-gates were open; she was
hiding nothing from him now.
"You came. If you'd been an angel from heaven, you couldn't have been
more wonderful. You helped me--believed in me--gave me always--the
benefit of the doubt--made a way of escape for me--made life
possible--even--even--beautiful!" She choked a little over the word. "I
offered you just everything. I couldn't help it. You were the only man in
the world to me. How could I help worshipping you? You--you--you were
always so splendid--so--so great. You made me--you made me realize--that
life was worth having.
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