Besides, you must understand
why it is I will return to Mr. Walraven's no more."
"No more?" he echoed in surprise.
"Never again. I never want to see him again in this world. I will tell
you. I know the miserable secret is as safe with you as in my own
breast."
If Mollie had loved Hugh Ingelow less dearly and devotedly than she did,
it is doubtful if she would have revealed the dark, sad history Miriam
had unfolded. But he had her heart, and must have every secret in it; so
she sat and told him, simply and sadly, all her father's and mother's
wrongs. Mr. Ingelow listened in horrified amaze.
"So now, you see, my friend," she concluded, "that I can never cross
Carl Walraven's threshold more."
"Of course not," cried Mr. Ingelow, impetuously. "Good heavens! what a
villain that man has been! They ought to hang, draw, and quarter him.
The infliction of such a wife as Madame Blanche has been is but
righteous retribution. You should expose him, Mollie."
"And myself? No, no, Mr. Ingelow. I leave him in higher hands. The mill
of the gods grinds slow, but it grinds sure.
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