Adieu!" She arose and extended her hand; he took it, but, thinking to profit by the emotion betrayed by Madame de Bergenheim's voice, he exclaimed in a sort of transport: "No! I will not wait until next winter to see you.

I was about to submit to your will; if you repulse me I will consult only myself; if you repulse me, Clemence, I warn you that tomorrow I shall be in your house, seated at your table and admitted to your drawing-room." "You ?" "I!" "To-morrow ?" "To-morrow." "And how will you do it, pray ?" said she, defiantly.
"That is my secret, Madame," he replied, coldly.
Although her curiosity was greatly aroused, Clemence felt that it would be beneath her to ask any more questions.

She replied with an affectation of mocking indifference: "Since I am to have the pleasure of seeing you tomorrow, I hope you will permit me to leave you today.

You know that I am not well, and it is showing me very little attention to allow me to stand here in this wet grass." She raised her skirt a trifle and extended her foot, showing her slipper, which was really covered with pearly drops of rain.

Octave threw himself quickly upon his knees, and, taking a silk handkerchief from his pocket, began to wipe away all traces of the storm.