She sprang to his side; she clutched his arm and devoured his face with her eyes.
"You are not deceiving me ?" she cried.

"You have Tignonville below?
You--oh, no, no!" And she fell back from him, her eyes distended, her voice grown suddenly shrill and defiant, "You have not! You are deceiving me! He has escaped, and you have lied to me!" "I ?" "Yes, you have lied to me!" It was the last fierce flicker of hope when hope seemed dead: the last clutch of the drowning at the straw that floated before the eyes.
He laughed harshly.

"You will be my wife in five minutes," he said, "and you give me the lie?
A week, and you will know me better! A month, and--but we will talk of that another time.

For the present," he continued, turning to La Tribe, "do you, sir, tell her that the gentleman is below.

Perhaps she will believe you.