"I would rather die--seven times!" she cried, her voice quivering.

And she tried to rise, but sat down again.
"And these ?" he said, indicating the servants.
"Far, far rather!" she repeated passionately.
"And Monsieur?
And Monsieur ?" he urged with stern persistence, while his eyes passed lightly from her to Tignonville and back to her again, their depths inscrutable.

"If you love Monsieur, Mademoiselle, and I believe you do--" "I can die with him!" she cried.
"And he with you ?" She writhed in her chair.
"And he with you ?" Count Hannibal repeated, with emphasis; and he thrust forward his head.

"For that is the question.

Think, think, Mademoiselle.