Then a scream of anguish and recall rose to her lips.

She fought it down, for Josephine and Raynal.

Edouard was gone.

She had but her sister now, the sister she loved better than herself; the sister to save whose life and honor she had this moment sacrificed her own, and all a woman lives for.
She turned, with a wild cry of love and pity, to that sister's side to help her; and when she kneeled down beside her, an iron arm was promptly thrust out between the beloved one and her.
"This is my care, madame," said Raynal, coldly.
There was no mistaking his manner.

The stained one was not to touch his wife.
She looked at him in piteous amazement at his ingratitude.