Pale as he had been, M. de Brevan had become crimson.
“Have you really noticed nothing? Are you really not aware that I love you?”
She could understand any thing but this, the unfortunate girl; any thing but such infamy, such an incredible insult! M. de Brevan must be either drunk or mad.
“Leave me, sir!” she said peremptorily, but with a voice trembling with indignation.
But he advanced towards her with open arms, and went on,—
“Yes, I love you madly, and for a long time,—ever since the first day I saw you.”
Henrietta, however, had swiftly moved aside, and opened the window.
“If you advance another step, I shall cry for help.”
He stopped, and, changing his tone, said to her,—
“Ah! You refuse? Well, what are you hoping for? For Daniel’s return? Don’t you know that he loves Sarah?”