”Heaven forgive me!” cried Leon choked with emotion. “With my wretched arguments, I am belabouring myself with my own logic. It is a horrible farce a mockery of morality and cannot bind me.”
Pepa clasped her hands as if in prayer and preparing for death, and Leon was on the point of uttering some wildly subversive ideas which came boiling from his heart like the lava from a volcano, when the maid rushed in who had charge of Monina. She was pale and trembling.
“What is the matter?” said the marquis.
“The man—there!”
“Who?”
“A man. He came in suddenly—he is kissing the child.”
“It is he!” exclaimed Fúcar much agitated.
“He!”
“But it was agreed that he was not to come!”
“He—he is here?” cried Leon suddenly losing logic, reason, prudence and self-command, and flaring up in frenzy. “Let him dare to come in! Does he presume to desecrate these walls? I am glad to meet him here—I will tear him limb from limb like a foul beast!”