“Without a rock to tie to,” I said as calmly as I could, “I shall be swept away in another moment, beyond hope of rescue. I have never seen you so beautiful. I have never loved you——”
She stopped me with a gesture.
“M. de Tavernay,” she said with impressive gravity, “it is my painful duty to tell you that Mlle. de Benseval no longer exists.”
“She is dead!” I murmured dazedly.
“Oh, not in the least. She was never more thoroughly alive than at this moment.”
“Then she is married!” I cried, a great load lifting from my heart. “I see it all—she did love another—she has married him.”
“Wrong again, monsieur. She is still a maiden and does not love another.”
“Come!” I said. “You are playing with me. I warn you, it is dangerous!” and I gripped my arms behind me to keep them from about her.
She noticed the movement and retreated a step.
“Monsieur,” she said, “I will tell you the story—if you will promise to remain where you are until I have finished.”