"You are in my power," he said.

"For the rest, if it be a lie, Mademoiselle has but to say so." "You hear him ?" Tignonville cried.

"Then speak, Mademoiselle! Clotilde, speak! Say you never spoke, you never promised him!" The young man's voice quivered with indignation, with rage, with pain; but most, if the truth be told, with shame--the shame of a position strange and unparalleled.

For in proportion as the fear of death instant and violent was lifted from him, reflection awoke, and the situation in which he stood took uglier shape.

It was not so much love that cried to her, love that suffered, anguished by the prospect of love lost; as in the highest natures it might have been.