"In America, when a man puts a sword in his hand, it is to kill
somebody. Here--aye, all over the continent, for that matter--
swords are baubles for young nobles, used to slash each other in
love affairs. I respect and admire you; had I not done so, I
should not have spoken. Countess, be frank with me, as frank as
I have been with you; have I not guessed rightly?"
"Yes, Monsieur," her head bowed and her cheeks white. "Yes, yes!
it was a miserable game. But I love Madame; I would sacrifice my
pride and my heart for her, if need be."
"I can believe that."
"And believe me when I say that the moment I saw you, I knew
that my conduct was going to be detestable. But I had given my
promise. A woman has but little to offer to her country; I have
offered my pride, and I am a proud woman, Monsieur. I am ashamed.
I am glad that you spoke, for it was becoming unbearable to
throw myself at a man whose heart I knew intuitively to be
elsewhere." She raised her eyes, which were filled with a
strange luster. "Will you forgive me, Monsieur?"
"With all my heart. For now I know that we shall be friends. You
will be relieved of an odious part; for you are too handsome not
to have in keeping some other heart besides your own.
Pages:
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202