You shall read
the statement, Mr. Noel, if you like, when you are fitter to understand
it. You shall also read a letter in the handwriting of Miss Garth--who
will repeat to you personally every word she has written to me--a
letter formally denying that she was ever in Vauxhall Walk, and formally
asserting that those moles on your wife's neck are marks peculiar to
Miss Magdalen Vanstone, whom she has known from childhood. I say it with
a just pride--you will find no weak place anywhere in the evidence which
I bring you. If Mr. Bygrave had not stolen my letter, you would have had
your warning before I was cruelly deceived into going to Zurich; and the
proofs which I now bring you, after your marriage, I should then have
offered to you before it. Don't hold me responsible, sir, for what has
happened since I left England. Blame your uncle's bastard daughter, and
blame that villain with the brown eye and the green!"
She spoke her last venomous words as slowly and distinctly as she had
spoken all the rest. Noel Vanstone made no answer--he still sat cowering
over the fire. She looked round into his face. He was crying silently.
"I was so fond of her!" said the miserable little creature; "and I
thought she was so fond of Me!"
Mrs.
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