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XXXVI.
THE BOSTONIANS.
373
months to think about it—about the way he affected me there. I take it very quietly.'
'No, you don't; you are not calm now!'
Verena was silent a moment, while Olive's eyes continued to search her, accuse her, condemn her. 'It's all the more reason you shouldn't give me stab after stab,' she replied, with a gentleness which was infinitely touching.
It had an instant effect upon Olive; she burst into tears, threw herself on her friend's bosom. 'Oh, don't desert me—don't desert me, or you'll kill me in torture,' she moaned, shuddering.
'You must help me—you must help me!' cried Verena, imploringly too.
