I hate him with a sleepless, an unforgiving hate, that can not be quieted.

He has dishonored me in the presence of these men--he has been the instrument through which I bear this badge, this brand-stamp on my cheek--he has come between my passion and its object--nay, droop not--I have no reference now to you, though you, too, have been won by his insidious attractions, while he gives you no thought in return--he has done more than this, occasioned more than this, and wonder not that I had it in my heart at one moment to-night to put my dagger into your bosom, since through you it had been defrauded of its object.

But why tremble--do you not tell me he is safe ?" "I do! and for this reason I tremble.

I tremble with joy, not fear.

I rejoice that through my poor help he is safe.