“But I cannot wait . . .” she answered faintly, so faintly that he saw she was on the point of swooning. He sprang round the table to her, and catching her in his arms held her a second or two. The scarf had fallen from her hair, and her head, grey and golden, rested against his shoulder. Her eyes were shut, but he did not think she had quite lost consciousness, or the kiss, reverent as it was, which he put on that pathetic hair might have found another goal, for his heart was beating furiously. Then he lowered her into a chair, looked round for water, and, seeing a pitcher and a cup, poured some out with shaking hands and held it to her lips.
He was right; the Duchesse had not lost consciousness entirely. She drank some water, contrived to thank him, and put her head back against the chair.
“Are you better? Are you better?” he got out. (“Brute, brute, brute!” he said to himself. But he was not repentant.)
“You were right to tell me . . . I asked you,” said she almost inaudibly. A little colour was creeping back to her face.
He waited a moment, gave her the cup again, gently took one hand when she had finished, and gently rubbed it. “And now that I have told you—Valentine, my only love, I have been faithful to your memory all these years—now that I have told you, you will let me take you away from this dreadful place, this intolerable existence, for ever. Valentine . . . Valentine . . .”
He was at her feet now, clutching at the hand he had been chafing, breathless, almost sobbing in the extremity of his pleading:
“Valentine, I implore you! It breaks my heart to see you here! Come with me; be my wife! let us take what remains to us in this sorry world! And if I speak so soon, when my hand has just dealt you this blow, it is because the time is so short, as you know. Indeed, I would not press you for an answer now, even after all these years, but that we are in the midst of perils. Say you forgive my importunity—and say you will come with me!”
She gently withdrew her hand.
“Comte,” she said with an effort, “I . . . I thank you, but it could not be. I am an old woman now . . . I thank you, I thank you indeed for your faithfulness, but I could not.”
“At least then, let me take you away as a brother might! You cannot remain here—it is impossible to leave you to this!”