Vandeloup shrugged his shoulders in a
resigned sort of manner, and glanced at his watch to see when it
would be time for him to go. Meanwhile he smoked quietly on, and
Kitty, after sobbing for some time, dried her eyes, and sat up in
the chair again.
'How long is this going to last?' she asked, in a hard voice.
'Till I get rich!'
'That may be a long time?'
'It may.'
'Perhaps never?'
'Perhaps!'
'And then I will never be your wife?'
'Unfortunately, no.'
'You coward!' burst forth Kitty, rising from her seat, and crossing
over to him; 'you made me leave my home with your false promises,
and now you refuse to make me the only reparation that is in your
power.'
'Circumstances are against any virtuous intentions I may entertain,'
retorted Vandeloup, coolly.
Kitty looked at him for a moment, then ran over to a desk near the
window, and took from thence a small bottle of white glass with two
red bands round it. She let the lid of the desk fall with a bang,
then crossed to Vandeloup, holding the bottle up before him.
'Do you know what this is?' she asked, in a harsh voice.
'The poison I made in Ballarat,' he answered, coolly, blowing a
wreath of smoke; 'how did you get hold of it?'
'I found it in your private desk,' she said, coldly.
'That was wrong, my dear,' he answered, gently, 'you should never
betray confidences--I left the desk in your charge, and it should
have been sacred to you.
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