‘In the name of mercy, leave this house, Gaudin!’ she exclaimed hurriedly. ‘I have been very, very wrong. I confess I ought to have been more candid. But leave this house—on my bended knees I implore it. I will explain everything.’
‘I shall not stir, Marie,’ replied Sainte-Croix; and through all his excitement a sarcastic smile played upon his lip as he saw the trembling woman at his feet. ‘The tumult of this interview will reach your new favourite’s ears; possibly the police of to-morrow will exhibit strange prisoners.’
In an agony of terror the Marchioness clung to Sainte-Croix and again besought him to depart. But Gaudin saw, as she quailed before his determined aspect, that he had gained a temporary triumph over her haughty disposition; and he enjoyed her distress in proportion as it increased.
‘Gaudin!’ she cried; ‘pray, pray quit this place. I will do
Sainte-Croix Upbraiding the Marchioness
all that you may in future wish, so that you will but go away. I will be your abject slave; you shall spurn me, trample on me, crush me, if you choose; only leave the house.’
‘I am waiting for an interview with M. Theria,’ Sainte-Croix replied coldly.
‘You will not depart!’ exclaimed the Marchioness, suddenly altering her tone, and springing up from her position of supplication. ‘Then but one resource is left.’
‘Where are you about to go?’ asked Sainte-Croix, as she advanced towards the top of the flight of stairs.