. I tore the marriage certificate from his pocket and burnt it. I did not want anything made smooth and easy for me. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. He knew my name, and also that I had been living in Paris, and a man doesn’t risk claiming a girl for his wife, as a rule, for nothing. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. “Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself. . He was dressed with the utmost care, and he set his feet upon the broad walk as though the action were in some way a condescension.
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