"What is it?
If it have aught to do with M.Tignonville--" "It has not!" In her surprise--for although she had put the question she had felt no doubt of the answer--she started and turned to him.
"It has not ?" she exclaimed almost incredulously.
"No." "Then what is it, Monsieur ?" she replied, a little haughtily.

"What can there be that should move me so ?" "Life or death, Madame," he answered solemnly.

"Nay, more; for since Providence has given me this chance of speaking to you, a thing of which I despaired, I know that the burden is laid on us, and that it is guilt or it is innocence, according as we refuse the burden or bear it." "What is it, then ?" she cried impatiently.

"What is it ?" "I tried to speak to you this morning." "Was it you, then, whom Madame St.Lo saw stalking me before dinner?
"It was." She clasped her hands and heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thank God, Monsieur!" she replied.