Can you not guess something of my anguish then?
Already loathing my act, and beside myself for having betrayed you, think into what despair I was plunged by Monsieur de Marsac's intimation.
"Then I understood that for reasons of your own you had concealed your identity.

You were not perhaps, betrothed; indeed, I remembered then how, solemnly you had sworn that you were not; and so I bethought me that your vows to me may have been sincere and such as a maid might honourably listen to." "They were, Roxalanne! they were!" I cried.
But she continued "That you had Mademoiselle de Marsac's portrait was something that I could not explain; but then I hear that you had also Lesperon's papers upon you; so that you may have become possessed of the one with the others.

And now, monsieur--" She ceased, and there against my breast she lay weeping and weeping in her bitter passion of regret, until it seemed to me she would never regain her self-control.
"It has been all my fault, Roxalanne," said I, "and if I am to pay the price they are exacting, it will be none too high.

I embarked upon a dastardly business; which brought me to Languedoc under false colours.
I wish, indeed, that I had told you when first the impulse to tell you came upon me.

Afterwards it grew impossible." "Tell me now," she begged.