“You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket. The events that had initially followed in the wake of her triumph over Emile Gosse had quite confused and dazed her. I can’t stand it. She ought to have been disposed to faint and scream at all these happenings; she ought to have maintained a front of outraged dignity to veil the sinking of her heart. "I could almost forgive the wretch the injury he did me in depriving me of my poor dear wife—No, not quite that," he added, a little confused. He pushed her to his bed, little more than a cot, and pulled off her clothes. Luckily, they were not easily discomposed. "I should call it putting him out of the way.
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