Part 31

“Xantippe. There is no need for her to live with the Englishman now. Our son is dead and the Jew in hell. I will at least have my wife back.”

“She will not come.”

“She will come. By God, I will make her! I have tasted blood to-night, and I am not a child to be treated with contempt. I say I will make her come.”

“But if she refuses?”

“Then I will take care she does not go back to the Englishman.”

“You will--” but madam’s voice faltered. Gregorio read her meaning and laughed a yes.

“But, Gregorio, think; you will be hanged for that. You wife is not a Jewess.”

But Gregorio laughed again and strode into the street. He was mad with grief and the intoxicating draughts of vengeance he had swallowed. He strode across the road and mounted the stairs with steady feet. Madam Marx followed him, weeping and calling on him to come back. As he reached the door of his room she flung herself before him, but he pushed her on one side with his feet and shut the door behind him as he entered.

Lying on the threshold, she heard the bolt fastened, and knew the last act of the tragedy was begun.

XI--HUSBAND AND WIFE

As Gregorio entered the room, Xantippe, who was kneeling by a box into which she was placing clothes neatly folded, turned her head and said laughingly:

“You are impatient, my friend; I have nearly--”

But recognising Gregorio, she did not finish the sentence. She sat down on the edge of the box. Her face became white, and the blood left her lips. With a great effort she remained quiet and folded her hands on her lap.

Gregorio looked at her for a moment, a cruel smile making his sinister face appear almost terrible, and his bloodshot eyes glared at her savagely. At last he broke the silence by shouting her name hoarsely, making at the same time a movement toward her. He looked like a wild animal about to spring upon his prey. Xantippe, however, did not flinch, answering softly:

“I am not deaf. What do you want here?”

“It is my room; I suppose I have a right to be here.”

“I apologise for having intruded.”

“None of your smooth speeches. The Englishman has schooled you carefully, I see. Can you say ‘good-bye’ in English yet?”

“Why should I say ‘good-bye’?”

“It is time. You will come back to me now.”

“Never.”

Gregorio laughed hysterically and stood beside her. His fingers played with her hair. In spite of her fear lest she should irritate him, Xantippe shrank from his touch. Gregorio noticed her aversion and said savagely:

“You must get used to me, Xantippe. From to-night we live together again. It is not necessary now for you to earn money.”

“I shall not come back to you. I have told you I hate you. It is your own fault that I leave you.”

“It will be my fault if you do leave me.”

He pushed her on to the mattress and held her there.

“Let us talk,” he said.

For a few minutes there was silence, and then he continued: