She trembled under the passion of his gaze.
"Adrien!" she exclaimed, in low, reproachful tones. "Why do you speak to me like that, when I know how little your words really mean?"
"Little!" he cried with suppressed passion. "Ah, Constance, why are you so cruel to me? Why do you so misjudge me, when I would gladly die to serve you?"
The earnestness in his tones was unmistakable; but she kept her face turned from him, and he knew only from the quick-drawn breath that she had heard him.
"Constance," he pleaded, "look at me, dear. Give me this one chance. I shall never trouble you again."
"You have no right----" she began tremulously.
"No right to tell you I love you. Do you think I don't know that?" he burst out. "It is just that very knowledge which has burnt itself into me, and seared my very soul."
"What knowledge?" she asked, forgetful, in the suddenness of his attack, the tactics she had adopted with regard to Lord Standon.
"The knowledge of your engagement," he answered hoarsely. "Ah, Constance, be merciful. Surely not even Standon himself would grudge me these last few moments."
"What has Lord Standon to do with me?" she asked, looking him full in the face with steadfast eyes.