“Words, words, words!” he said again, with bitter scorn. “Farewell, Miss Rosenthal.”
And he got up and strode toward the door.
Quick as light she flew before him, intercepted him and clasped him in her arms.
“Oh, don’t—don’t go! Spare yourself! Oh, Eastworth! oh, my love, spare yourself!” she cried, almost beside herself.
“Will you go with me?” he stooped and whispered.
“No, never! I dare not do wrong!”
“Then let me go alone, false-hearted girl!” he cried, tearing off her clasping arms and flinging her from him with such force that she fell upon the floor.
He rushed up into his room, rang for his servant, sent out and ordered a carriage, and while waiting for it hastily packed up his most valuable effects, and as soon as it came to the door he entered it and drove to the station in time to catch the train for Alexandria and Orange.
Some minutes after the carriage had rolled away, Elfrida chanced to come down to the drawing-room, and there she found Erminie lying upon the floor in a swoon.
In great alarm she rang for assistance, and then flew to the side of her friend and raised her up.