What! if I surrender my honor it is agreed that you
surrender yours? A love such as mine requires a wife. You would
have me break my word to the dead and to the living, and you
expect me to believe in your promises! Faugh!" He pushed her
from him, and resumed his stand by the window.
The hate of a thousand ancestors surged into her heart, and she
would have liked to kill him. Mistress! He had dared. He had
dared to speak to her as no other man living or dead had dared.
And he lived. All that was tigerish in her soul rose to the
surface; only the thought of the glittering goal stayed the
outburst. She had yet one weapon. A minute went by, still
another; silence. A hand was laid tremblingly on his arm.
"Forgive me! I was wrong. Love me, love me, if you must. Keep
your honor; love me without conditions. I--" She stumbled into
the chair, covered her eyes and fell to weeping.
Fitzgerald, dumfounded and dismayed, looked. down at the
beautiful head. He could fight angry words, tempests of wrath--
but tears, a woman's tears, the tears of the woman he loved!
"Madame," he said gently, "do you love me?"
No answer.
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