"And the disgrace!"
"Are you afraid? I am not."
"I am only thinking of you."
She saw his hesitation.
"You are a coward! You are trembling. You did not tremble when you followed me to Dijon. You were the one that proposed flight then. Do you not see that we must accept the responsibility of our guilt, and support it with dignity and courage. I have been more distressed by the thought of retaining the respect of our friends by deceit, than by any thing else. That has tormented me at times beyond endurance; this cringing dissembling, hypocrisy and treachery. When your wife flung her disdain and contempt in my face, I breathed freely for the first time in months; for this hateful deception of all around us must now come to an end. The world, our world, will cover us with disgrace; but we need not care. Place the pleasures of our mutual love in one side of the balance, with society's contempt in the other, and which will turn the scale? Braving scandal and disgrace shows that we at least have dignity and courage left. Come, let us go."
These burning words roused him from his torpor. How beautiful she was in her scorn and excitement! He replied to Odette, who stood straight and motionless before him:
"No; we will not go."
Her lip curled with contempt; but without replying, she turned to the door.
"Odette, where are you going?" he cried, frightened at her silence.
"I despise you."