They had been extinguished, deluged out of
existence when the idol of his worship was flung headlong from its
pedestal by the complete revolt of his moral being. His prejudices,
his instincts, matured through years of effort, were the stronger part
of him, and the conflict was decided before it began. The shock of
discovery had brought a terrible reaction. His love was killed under
the blow. And though for a while the sense of overwhelming disaster
had been crushing, the measure of that disaster was taken swiftly. It
left him disillusioned, it left him harder, colder. But it left him
sane.
These things were not all, however. On this night he had approached
far nearer the hell which only a woman can create for a man than his
first discovery had borne him. The irony of it was perfect. Out of
her great love for him, solely in his interest, in a great desire to
shield him from a danger she saw threatening him, she had contrived to
convince him that she had been as ready to sacrifice him, his
interests, the interests of his friends, as she had been to accept the
price offered for the blood of his twin brother.
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