"What does all that mean?" thought Madame du Gua.
"But," she continued, "you still love me; at any rate, you desire me,
and the folly you have just committed," she added, taking his hand,
"proves it to me. I will again be that I desired to be; and I return
to Fougeres happy. Love absolves everything. You love me; I have
regained the respect of the man who represents to me the whole world,
and I can die."
"Then you still love me?" said the marquis.
"Have I said so?" she replied with a scornful look, delighting in the
torture she was making him endure. "I have run many risks to come
here. I have saved Monsieur de Bauvan's life, and he, more grateful
than others, offers me in return his fortune and his name. You have
never even thought of doing that."
The marquis, bewildered by these words, stifled the worst anger he had
ever felt, supposing that the count had played him false. He made no
answer.
"Ah! you reflect," she said, bitterly.
"Mademoiselle," replied the young man, "your doubts justify mine."
"Let us leave this room," said Mademoiselle de Verneuil, catching
sight of a corner of Madame du Gua's gown, and rising. But the wish to
reduce her rival to despair was too strong, and she made no further
motion to go.
"Do you mean to drive me to hell?" cried the marquis, seizing her hand
and pressing it violently.
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