You will give me the life that I have come to beg of you; the life you promised me." "Yes, but upon terms, Mademoiselle, and those terms you have heard." She looked a moment into that calm, set face, into the dark grey eyes that looked so solemn and betrayed so little of what was passing within.
"And you say that you love me ?" she cried.
"Helas!" he sighed.

"It is a weakness I cannot conquer.
"Look well down into your heart, M.La Boulaye," she answered him, "and you will find how egregious is your error.

You do not love me; you love yourself, and only yourself.

If you loved me you would not seek to have me when I am unwilling.

Above all things, you would desire my happiness--it is ever so when we truly love--and you would seek to promote it.