It is not the words it utters, nor the range nor tone. It
is something indefinable, and, though we can not analyze it, we
are willing to follow wherever it leads. Such a voice Maurice
possessed, though he was totally ignorant of its power. But
Madame, as she listened, felt its magic influence, and for a
moment the spell rendered her mute.
"Monsieur, you have missed your vocation; you plead well, indeed.
Unfortunately, I can not hear; my ears are of wax. No, no! I
have nourished these projects too long; they are a part of me.
Laughed at, you say? Have I not been laughed at from one end of
the continent to the other?" passionately. "It is my turn now,
and woe to those who have dared to laugh. I shall sweep all
obstacles away; nothing shall stop me. Mine the crown is, and
mine it shall be. I am a woman, and I wished to avoid bloodshed.
But not even that shall stay me; not even love!" Her bosom
heaved, her hands were clenched, and her gray eyes flashed like
troubled waters in the sunlight.
"Madame, if you love him--"
"Well?" proudly.
"No, I am wrong. If you loved him you would prize above all else
this honor of which you intend to rob him.
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