Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. Her natural instincts reasserted themselves. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. I'm speaking of virtuous women—of WIVES, Madam. But ere the words could find utterance, her maternal tenderness overcame her indignation; and, sinking upon her knees, she extended her arms over her child. But Jack did not heed them.
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