"
Mademoiselle de Verneuil awoke, reflected, looked at the child whose
hand she held, remembered all, and replied to the girl: "Shut up that
boy; if you wish me to live do not let him escape you."
As she slowly said the words her eyes were fixed on the door of her
bedroom, and there they continued fastened with so dreadful a
fixedness that it seemed as if she saw her victim through the wooden
panels. Then she gently opened it, passed through and closed it behind
her without turning round, for she saw the marquis standing before the
fireplace. His dress, without being too choice, had the look of
careful arrangement which adds so much to the admiration which a woman
feels for her lover. All her self-possession came back to her at the
sight of him. Her lips, rigid, although half-open, showed the enamel
of her white teeth and formed a smile that was fixed and terrible
rather than voluptuous. She walked with slow steps toward the young
man and pointed with her finger to the clock.
"A man who is worthy of love is worth waiting for," she said with
deceptive gaiety.
Then, overcome with the violence of her emotions, she dropped upon the
sofa which was near the fireplace.
"Dear Marie, you are so charming when you are angry," said the
marquis, sitting down beside her and taking her hand, which she let
him take, and entreating a look, which she refused him.
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