He violently pulled the surprised coachman's sleeve, and called out to him the address of the Rue Leopardi in so imperative a tone that the horse began again to trot as he had done before, and the cab to go quickly through the labyrinth of streets.

A wave of tragical desire rolled into the young man's heart.

No, he would not bear that affront.

He was too bitterly wounded in the most sensitive chords of his being, in his love as well as his pride.

Both struggled within him, and another instinct as well, urging him to the mad step he was about to take.