'When it is known that you have been here for twenty-four hours, you will be forced to marry me.

Nothing else can save you from infamy.

Even Madame Bernard will not dare to give you shelter, for she will lose every pupil she has if it is found out that she is harbouring a nun who has broken her vows, a vulgar bad character who has been caught in an officer's lodgings! That is what they will call you!' At first she had not believed that he was in earnest, but she could not long mistake the tone of a man determined to risk much more than life and limb for his desperate purpose.

Her just anger leaped up like a flame.
'Are you an utter scoundrel, after all?
Have you no honour left?
Is there nothing in you to which a woman can appeal?
You talk of being human! You prate of your man's nature! And in the same breath you threaten an innocent girl with public infamy, if she will not disgrace herself of her own free will! Is that your love?
Did I give you mine for that?
Shame on you! And shame on me for being so deceived!' Her voice rang like steel and the thrusts of her deadly reproach pierced deep.

He was on his feet, in the impulse of self-defence, before she had half done, trying to silence her--he was at her side, calling her by her name, but she would not hear him.
'No, I believed in you!' she went on.