I could have wished for some difficulty, some obstruction; but there was none--absolutely none.

The traitors walked deliberately into the trap set for them.

Over and over again I asked myself quietly and in cold blood--was there any reason why I should have pity on them?
Had they shown one redeeming point in their characters?
Was there any nobleness, any honesty, any real sterling good quality in either of them to justify my consideration?
And always the answer came, NO! Hollow to the heart's core, hypocrites both, liars both--even the guilty passion they cherished for one another had no real earnestness in it save the pursuit of present pleasure; for she, Nina, in that fatal interview in the avenue where I had been a tortured listener, had hinted at the possibility of tiring of her lover, and HE had frankly declared to me that very day that it was absurd to suppose a man could be true to one woman all his life.

In brief, they deserved their approaching fate.
Such men as Guido and such women as my wife, are, I know, common enough in all classes of society, but they are not the less pernicious animals, meriting extermination as much, if not more, than the less harmful beasts of prey.

The poor beasts at any rate tell no lies, and after death their skins are of some value; but who shall measure the mischief done by a false tongue--and of what use is the corpse of a liar save to infect the air with pestilence?
I used to wonder at the superiority of men over the rest of the animal creation, but I see now that it is chiefly gained by excess of selfish cunning.