She would not willingly offend you--" "Offend me!" he exclaimed; "she could not offend me if she tried.

She could tread upon me, stab me, slay me, but never offend me.

I see you are sorry for me--and I thank you.

I kiss your hand for your gentle pity, mademoiselle." And he did so, with a knightly grace that became him well.

I thought his momentary anger was passing, but I was mistaken.