She sat up and listened for a moment rather anxiously, as if Octave's dark eyes might suddenly glisten in the obscurity.

When she had assured herself that all was tranquil, and that the throbbing of her heart was all that disturbed the silence, she continued preparing her plan of defense.
She decided that she would be ill the next day and keep to her bed, if necessary, until her persecutor should make up his mind to beat a retreat.

She solemnly pledged herself to be firm, courageous, and inflexible; then she tried to pray.

It was now two o'clock in the morning.

For some time Clemence remained motionless, and one might have thought that at least she was asleep.