She averted her agonised face. “Then it was from you he learned it, you—”
Dirk interrupted hotly: “He knows, remember that! he knows and he waits. Already he hates the woman who keeps him dumb; it were very easily done — one look, some few words — ye would not find him slow of understanding.” He loosened his grasp on her and Jacobea fell forward and clasped his feet.
“I implore you take back this wickedness, I am weak; since my first sight of you I have been striving against your influence that is killing me; man or demon, I beseech you, let me be!”
She raised her face, the slow, bitter tears forced out of her sweet, worn eyes; her hair fell like golden embroidery over the yellow gown, and her fingers fluttered on her unhappy bosom.
Dirk considered her curiously and coldly. “I am neith
