“I beseech you, Dionysia,” he said, “do not insist, do not deprive me of my courage.”
She was evidently suffering agonies. Her eyes shone with unbearable fire. Her dry lips were trembling.
“You will submit to being brought up in court?” she asked.
“Yes!”
“And if you are condemned?”
“I may be, I know.”
“This is madness!” cried the young girl.
In her despair she was wringing her hands; and then the words escaped from her lips, almost unconsciously,—
“Great God,” she said, “inspire me! How can I bend him? What must I say? Jacques, do you love me no longer? For my sake, if not for your own, I beseech you, let us flee! You escape disgrace; you secure liberty. Can nothing touch you? What do you want? Must I throw myself at your feet?”
And she really let herself fall at his feet.