His arm was firm round her waist. His glowing eyes poured love upon her. She felt his beating heart.
All that passed in her then, what mortal can say? She seemed two women: that part of her which could not get away from his strong arm lost all strength to resist, it yielded and thrilled under his embrace, her bosom heaving madly: all that was free writhed away from him; her face was averted with a glare of terror, and both her hands put up between his eyes and it.
“You turn away your head. Rose, she turns away. Speak for me. Scold her; for I don’t know how to scold her. No answer from either; oh, what has turned your hearts against me so?”
“Camille,” cried Rose—the tears streaming down her cheeks—“my poor Camille! leave Beaurepaire. Oh, leave it at once.”
Returned towards her with a look of inquiry.
At that Josephine, like some feeble but nimble wild creature on whom a grasp has relaxed, writhed away from him and got free: “Farewell! Farewell!” she cried, in despair’s own voice, and made swiftly for the house.
Camille stood aghast, and did not follow her.
Now ere she had gone many steps who should meet her right in front but Jacintha.
“Madame Raynal, the baroness’s carriage is just in sight. I thought you’d like to know.” Then she bawled proudly to Rose, “I was the first to call her madame;” and off went Jacintha convinced she had done something very clever.
This blow turned those three to stone.