I am sorry, but I cannot give him to you." Caron's face was very white and his hands were clenched convulsively.

It is questionable whether in that moment he had not flung himself upon the Incorruptible, and enforced that which hitherto he had only besought, but that in that instant the girl stepped into the room.
"And is it really you, Caron ?" came the melodious voice of Cecile.
La Boulaye started round to confront her, and stifled a curse at the untimely interruption which Robespierre was blessing as most timely.
"It is--it is, Citoyenne," he answered shortly, to add more shortly still: "I am here on business with the Citizen, your uncle." But before the girl could so much as appreciate the rebuke he levelled at her intrusion, her uncle had come to the rescue.
"The business, however, is at an end.

Take charge of this good Caron, Cecile, whilst I make ready for my journey." Thus, sore at heart, and chagrined beyond words, La Boulaye was forced to realise his defeat, and to leave the presence of the Incorruptible.
But with Cecile he went no farther than the landing.
"If you will excuse me, Citoyenne," he said abstractedly, "I will take my leave of you." "But I shall not excuse you, Caron," she said, refusing to see his abstraction.

"You will stay to dinner--" "I am sorry beyond measure, but--" "You shall stay," she interrupted.

"Come, Caron.