He puzzled her, and she still had a feeling at the back of her mind that there must be something more definite and more evil lurking at the back of that tortuous brain.
"Will your ladyship allow me to conduct you to yonder window ?" he said, "the air is cool, and what I have to say can best be done in sight of yonder sleeping city." His tone was one of perfect courtesy, even of respectful deference through which not the slightest trace of sarcasm could be discerned, and she, still actuated by curiosity and interest, not in any way by fear, quietly rose to obey him.

Though she ignored the hand which he was holding out towards her, she followed him readily enough as he walked up to the window.
All through this agonizing and soul-stirring interview she had felt heavily oppressed by the close atmosphere of the room, rendered nauseous by the evil smell of the smoky tallow-candles which were left to spread their grease and smoke abroad unchecked.

Once or twice she had gazed longingly towards the suggestion of pure air outside.
Chauvelin evidently had still much to say to her: the torturing, mental rack to which she was being subjected had not yet fully done its work.
It still was capable of one or two turns, a twist or so which might succeed in crushing her pride and her defiance.

Well! so be it! she was in the man's power: had placed herself therein through her own unreasoning impulse.

This interview was but one of the many soul-agonies which she had been called upon to endure, and if by submitting to it all she could in a measure mitigate her own faults and be of help to the man she loved, she would find the sacrifice small and the mental torture easy to bear.
Therefore when Chauvelin beckoned to her to draw near, she went up to the window, and leaning her head against the deep stone embrasure, she looked out into the night..