"Is she so very beautiful, this enchantress of yours?" she queried with
the velvety softness of a cat.
"She is blind," answered Matheson with a quiver in his words. "Blinded
for life while trying to warn me of a vitriol attack. Olive, I want you
to listen without interruption while I tell you on my word of honour
what are the facts underneath that vile story of Larssen's. I want you
to believe and have pity.
"We had never seen one another before Arles. There we met as casual
tourists. It happened that I was able to defend her from the assault of
a half-drunken peasant. After that we parted as the merest
acquaintances. By pure chance we met again at Nimes. She came to Nimes
to gather further material for her scene-painting. For scene purposes
she had to make a sketch at night-time, and I went with her as escort as
I would have done with any other woman. We were followed by the peasant
Crau. He was about to throw vitriol on me when Miss Verney intervened.
She received the acid full in her eyes. She is, I believe, blinded for
life. Even now, as I speak, she lies on the operating table.... Olive,
there has been nothing between us!"
His voice rang out in passionate sincerity.
"I don't believe it," she replied icily.
"You _must_ believe it! I give you my word of honour!"
"I don't believe it! It's against human nature. You're in love with
her--that's plain. You had opportunity enough. I know sufficient of
human nature to put two and two together.
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