It gave me, too, a thrill to see her raise her handkerchief to her
mouth as if to stop a cry, as she had done then, the black sleeve
falling away from her perfect rounded arm, now looking almost like
marble against the lace. She held her handkerchief to her lips for
quite a minute; and indeed it covered more than a little of her
face, so that the features most showing were her eyes, gazing at
Doltaire with a look hard to interpret, for there seemed in it
trouble, entreaty, wonder, resistance, and a great sorrow--no fear,
trepidation, or indirectness.

His disturbing words were these: "To-night I am the Governor of
this country. You once doubted my power--that was when you would
save your lover from death. I proved it in that small thing--I saved
him. Well, when you saw me carried off to the Bastile--it looked
like that--my power seemed to vanish: is it not so? We have talked
of this before, but now is a time to review all things again. And
once more I say I am the Governor of New France. I have had the
commission in my hands ever since I came back. But I have spoken of
it to no one--except your lover."

"My husband!" she said steadily, crushing the handkerchief in
her hand, which now rested upon the chair-arm.

"Well, well, your husband--after a fashion. I did not care to
use this as an argument. I chose to win you by personal means
alone, to have you give yourself to Tinoir Doltaire because you
set him before any other man. I am vain, you see; but then vanity
is no sin when one has fine aspirations, and I aspire to you!"

She made a motion with her hand. "Oh, can you not spare me this