"The lash cuts to the bone. He seemed to charge her with the ruin of their situation. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. His eyes were fixed upon her face, but he opened his lips twice before he spoke. "But, I half suspect, of your father. In the hall below she could hear his firm voice giving quick commands to the servants. “I hope nothing is wrong. Hanging on the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a lotus blossom with stem and leaves—deadly as a club. He had said so. Lightheaded, she threw up in the courtyard of the Palazzo as servants crowded her in alarm. “You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket.
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