"Hush! For mercy's sake, hush! Put away such thoughts from your heart! I, the only wrong-doer, should be the only victim! Whatever wrong has been done, the Duke of Hereward has been blameless. He knew nothing of my former marriage; if he had, I do not believe he would have married me, even if I had been a princess."
"He was deceived, then?" coldly inquired the count.
"He was; but not willingly by me. I was forced to be silent about my marriage."
"You were 'forced' from my protection! 'forced' to conceal the fact of your marriage with me! and 'forced' to marry the Duke of Hereward under false colors. Could force on one side, and feebleness on the other, be carried any further than this?" muttered Volaski, between his teeth.
"I knew how helpless, in the hands of my parents, I was," wailed Valerie.
"Well, you are a duchess! Do you love the Duke of Hereward?"
"Oh, mercy! what shall I say? He deserves all my love, honor, and duty!"
"Does he get his deserts?" mockingly inquired Volaski.
"Ah! wretch that I am, why do I live?—I give him honor and duty; but love! love is not mine to give!" she murmured, in almost inaudible tones.
Their conversation—if an interview so emotional, so full of "starts and flaws" could be called so—had been carried on in a very low tone, while the count turned over the leaves of the photographic album, as if examining the portraits, but really without seeing one.