She does not know the honour of the game. She has no pity.
Then, sometimes when she loves in a way, she is, as you say, most
selfish. I mean a love which--is not possible. Then she does some mad
act--all women are a little mad sometimes. Most of us wish to be good,
but we are quicksilver. . . ."
Roscoe's mind had been working fast. He saw she meant to warn him against
Mrs. Falchion. His face flushed slightly. He knew that Justine had
thought well of him, and now he knew also that she suspected something
not creditable or, at least, hazardous in his life.
"And the man--the man whom the woman hates?"
"When the woman hates--and loves too, the man is in danger."
"Do you know of such a man?" he almost shrinkingly said.
"If I did I would say to him, The world is wide. There is no glory in
fighting a woman who will not be fair in battle. She will say what may
appear to be true, but what she knows in her own heart to be false--false
and bad."
Roscoe now saw that Justine had more than an inkling of his story.
He said calmly: "You would advise that man to flee from danger?"
"Yes, to flee," she replied hurriedly, with a strange anxiety in her
eyes; "for sometimes a woman is not satisfied with words that kill.
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