Do you think I am blind ?" he demanded, indignantly.
"My face, I mean.

I don't consider that you can see a person without looking in her face.

Now you have never looked in mine, and how do you know I have any face at all ?" "Madame, you mock me." "Not at all.

How are you to know what is behind this mask ?" "I feel it, and that is better; and I love you all the same." "Mr.Ormiston, how do you know but I am ugly." "Madame, I do not believe you are; you are all too perfect not to have a perfect face; and even were it otherwise, I still love you!" She broke into a laugh--one of her low, short, deriding laughs.
"You do! O man, how wise thou art! I tell you, if I took off this mask, the sight would curdle the very blood in your veins with horror--would freeze the lifeblood in your heart.

I tell you!" she passionately cried, "there are sights too horrible for human beings to look on and live, and this--this is one of them!" He started back, and stared at her aghast.
"You think me mad," she said, in a less fierce tone, "but I am not; and I repeat it, Mr.Ormiston, the sight of what this mask conceals would blast you.