She had never
sensed, not during the most poignant of her contacts with the war,
such stark naked misery in any woman's soul. Its futile diabolism but
accentuated its appeal.
"Well, you missed your chance," she said coldly. Gora was in no mood to
receive sympathy! "And if you hadn't and escaped detection I don't fancy
you would have enjoyed carrying round with you for the next thirty or forty
years the memory of a cowardly murder. Too bad we aren't men so that we
could have it out in a fair fight. My ancestors were all duellists. No
doubt yours were too," she added politely.
"Perhaps you are right." For the first time there was a slight hesitation
in Gora's raucous tones. But she added in a swift access of anger: "I
suppose you mean that your code is higher than mine. That you are incapable
of killing from behind."
"Good heavens! I hope so!...Still...I will confess I have had my
black moods. It is possible that I might have let loose my own devil
if--if--things had turned out differently."
"Oh, no, you wouldn't! Not when it came to the point. You would have
elevated your aristocratic nose and walked off." She uttered this dictum
with a certain air of personal pride although her face was convulsed with
hate.
"Gora, you are really making an ass of yourself. If you had taken more
time to think it over you wouldn't have followed me up with any such
melodramatic intention as murder.
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