"No, it was you, I say it was you," he retorted with a terrible burst
of rage. "Look here, don't exasperate me, or if you do you'll suffer for
it. What, you wretch, have you forgotten everything? You who maddened me
with your caresses! Confess that it was all a calculation in your mind,
that you hated Camille, and that you had wanted to kill him for a long
time. No doubt you took me as a sweetheart, so as to drive me to put an
end to him."
"It is not true," said she. "What you relate is monstrous. You have no
right to reproach me with my weakness towards you. I can speak in regard
to you, as you speak of me. Before I knew you, I was a good woman, who
never wronged a soul. If I drove you mad, it was you made me madder
still. Listen Laurent, don't let us quarrel. I have too much to reproach
you with."
"What can you reproach me with?" he inquired.
"No, nothing," she answered. "You did not save me from myself, you took
advantage of my surrender, you chose to spoil my life. I forgive you
all that. But, in mercy, do not accuse me of killing Camille. Keep your
crime for yourself. Do not seek to make me more terrified than I am
already."
Laurent raised his hand to strike her in the face.
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