Ronald did not return in the evening to the pretty villa where he had once been so happy.

In the warmth of his anger, he felt that he never could look again upon his wife.

To his sensitive, refined nature there was something more repulsive in the dishonorable act she had committed than there would have been in a crime of deeper dye.

He was shocked and startled--more so than if he awoke some fair summer morning to find Dora dead by his side.

She was indeed dead to him in one sense.