Титан

The Clash

           Suddenlyshegotup,and,seeingCowperwood’spictureonherdresser,hisstillimpressiveeyescontemplatingher,sheseizeditandthrewitonthefloor,stampingonhishandsomefacewithherprettyfoot,andragingathiminherheart.Thedog!Thebrute!HerbrainwasfullofthethoughtofRita’swhitearmsabouthim,ofhislipstohers.ThespectacleofRita’sfluffygowns,herenticingcostumes,wasinhereyes.Ritashouldnothavehim;sheshouldnothaveanythingconnectedwithhim,nor,forthatmatter,AntoinetteNowak,eitherthewretchedupstart,thehireling.Tothinkheshouldstooptoanofficestenographer!Onceonthatthought,shedecidedthatheshouldnotbeallowedtohaveawomanasanassistantanymore.Heowedittohertoloveherafterallshehaddoneforhim,thecoward,andtoletotherwomenalone.Herbrainwhirledwithstrangethoughts.Shewasreallynotsaneinherpresentstate.Shewassowroughtupbyherprospectivelossthatshecouldonlythinkofrash,impossible,destructivethingstodo.Shedressedswiftly,feverishly,and,callingaclosedcarriagefromthecoach-house,orderedherselftobedriventotheNewArtsBuilding.Shewouldshowthisrosycatofawoman,thissmilingpieceofimpertinence,thisshe-devil,whethershewouldlureCowperwoodaway.Shemeditatedassherode.ShewouldnotsitbackandberobbedasMrs.Cowperwoodhadbeenbyher.Never!Hecouldnottreatherthatway.Shewoulddiefirst!ShewouldkillRitaSohlbergandAntoinetteNowakandCowperwoodandherselffirst.

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