I saw the doctor prepare the final dose, and when
he had it to his lips I saw by his eyes that it was the drink of death.
I have told you all," he concluded.
"You have told me all," she repeated. "All! Good Heavens! All!"
"I have hidden nothing from you. Now there is nothing more to tell."
She stood perfectly still--her hands clasped, her eyes set, her face
white and stern.
"What I have to do now," she said, "lies plain before me."
"Iris! I implore you, make no change in our plans. Let us go away as we
proposed. Let the past be forgotten. Come with me--"
"Go with you? With you? With you? Oh!" she shuddered.
"Iris! I have told you all. Let us go on as if you had heard nothing.
We cannot be more separated than we have been for the last three
months. Let us remain as we are until the time when you will be able to
feel for me--to pity my weakness--and to forgive me."
"You do not understand. Forgive you? It is no longer a question of
forgiveness. Who am I that my forgiveness should be of the least value
to you--or to any?"
"What is the question, then?"
"I don't know. A horrible crime has been committed--a horrible,
ghastly, dreadful crime--such a thing as one reads of in the papers and
wonders, reading it, what manner of wild beasts must be those who do
such things.
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