A terrible sight met my eyes and burned itself into my very soul so that
it could never be forgot. Blanche was leaning back in the oak chair over
which flowed her long, fair locks, and the front of her robe was red. I
remembered how she had spilt the wine at the feast and thought I saw its
stain, till presently, still staring, I noted that it grew and knew it
to be caused by another wine, that of her blood. Also I noted that from
the midst of it seen in the lamplight, just beneath the snake-encircled
ruby heart, appeared the little handle of a dagger.
I sprang to her, but she lifted her hand and waved me back.
"Touch me not," she whispered, "I am not fit, also the thrust is mortal.
If you draw the knife I shall die at once, and first I would speak. I
would have you know that I love you and hoped to be a good wife to you.
What I said was true. That dead man tricked me with a false marriage
when I was scarcely more than a child, and afterwards he would not
mend it with an honest. Perchance he himself was wed, or he had other
reasons, I do not know.
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