The advocate felt that Juliette would certainly recoil from him in horror. He expected that terror which a murderer inspires. He was resigned to it in advance. He thought that she would fly from him; perhaps there would be a scene. She might, who knows, have hysterics; might cry out, call for succor, for help, for aid. He was wrong.
With a bound, Juliette flew to him, throwing herself upon him, her arms about his neck, and embraced him as she had never embraced him before.
“Yes, I do love you!” she cried. “Yes, you have committed a crime for my sake, because you loved me. You have a heart. I never really knew you before!”
It had cost him dear to inspire this passion in Madame Juliette; but Noel never thought of that.
He experienced a moment of intense delight: nothing appeared hopeless to him now.
But he had the presence of mind to free himself from her embrace.
“Let us go,” he said; “the one great danger is, that I do not know from whence the attack comes. How they have discovered the truth is still a mystery to me.”
Juliette remembered her alarming visitor of the afternoon; she understood it all.
“Oh, what a wretched woman I am!” she cried, wringing her hands in despair; “it is I who have betrayed you. It occurred on Tuesday, did it not?”
“Yes, Tuesday.”