"It is because I love you, Rufe,
and wish to be where you spend so much of your time."
"So much of my time?" echoed Venner, inquiringly.
"So at least you tell me."
"Do you doubt it?"
"I know that five days and nights have passed since you came here to see
me," cried Cervera, bitterly. "I have only your own word in explanation
of your neglect."
"That should be enough," said Venner, curtly.
"Yet a man after a new love does not shrink from lying to an old,"
retorted Cervera.
"Pshaw! You are jealous again."
"A woman who loves as I love is always jealous."
"Of whom now?"
"You know of whom."
"I tell you I have not seen Violet Page since the theater closed."
"I have only your word for it," repeated Cervera, with incredulity
bright in her sensuous eyes. "You know what I told you, Rufe. I'll not
tamely permit that pale-faced nightingale to come between you and me.
You know what I told you. I would kill her as I would a--a snake!"
Despite his own stiff nerves, Venner recoiled from the look on the
woman's desperate face. Her voice had fallen to a hiss like that of the
reptile mentioned.
"You are mad, Sanetta," he cried, irritably. "You have no occasion for
this jealousy and hatred.
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