"
"It is in vain, woman, that you would trifle with and delay me; he can
not escape me in the end. All these woods are familiar to me, in night
as in day, as the apartment in which we stand; and towards this boy I
entertain a feeling which will endue me with an activity and energy as
unshrinking in the pursuit as the appetite for revenge is keen which
gives them birth and impulse. I hate him with a sleepless, an
unforgiving hate, that can not be quieted. He has dishonored me in the
presence of these men--he has been the instrument through which I bear
this badge, this brand-stamp on my cheek--he has come between my passion
and its object--nay, droop not--I have no reference now to you, though
you, too, have been won by his insidious attractions, while he gives you
no thought in return--he has done more than this, occasioned more than
this, and wonder not that I had it in my heart at one moment to-night to
put my dagger into your bosom, since through you it had been defrauded
of its object.
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