What if I were mistaken?
I would have given my very life to have been able to recall those dreadful lines.
It was too late.
My cabin was only separated from Lord Falmouth's by a slight partition.
Seized by the most frightful anxiety, I listened. When the servant who had taken my letter to Falmouth closed the door, there was a dead silence. Then suddenly an impetuous movement upset a chair, and I heard Falmouth start towards the door with heavy and uncertain steps, for he could scarcely walk as yet.
He was coming.
My heart beat as though it was going to break.
His heavy steps came nearer.
I felt that I was breaking into a cold perspiration.
I was afraid!