“Impossible! Madness!” said Leon gloomily.
“Madness? It seems so, I admit, but it is not mad really.—It seems monstrous and scandalous, and yet to me—knowing the danger and knowing the foe we have to deal with it is perfectly natural. Do you suppose I would propose such a thing to you if it were not necessary? You do not know, you do not see that I and Monina and you are in imminent danger. I dread some insult—a duel—a murder.—Every moment is precious. He respects nothing. I expect every instant to see him come in....”
“No, and again no,” repeated Leon with a determination that was almost cruel.
Pepa, who with all her temerity was still under his dominion, dared no longer protest against this resolute pride, and insist on taking the only path to happiness that lay open to her. She was afraid that her obstinacy might provoke further difficulties, and she stood looking at the Sphinx, hoping that a solution of the problem might suggest itself, instead of that which to her looked so easy. At length, tired of waiting, she said:
“Then if everything is impossible I must do as my father desires me, and receive the wretch with open arms.”
“You, in the power of that brute!” exclaimed Leon; the cord, stretched to the utmost, snapped asunder. “Before that can happen I must have lost every drop of blood in my body.”
“Well, if the monster can be gorged with the Code,” said Pepa sarcastically, “I will fling my child to him and come to live with you.”
“Part with the child?”
“You see,—that is still more impossible. Whichever way I turn I see nothing but impossibilities.”