* * * * *
That evening at half-past twelve, at the Opera ball, Leon de Morville and Madame de Hansfeld, both masked as they had been at their first interview, met at the end of the corridor of the second circle in the left of the audience, and entered the anteroom of the stage-box in which they had had their first and last conversation.
CHAPTER XXXIX
[THE MARRIAGE]
Madame de Hansfeld was horror-struck at the change in M. de Morville's features, and the expression of despairing grief which agitated them.
"Alas! alas! what can thus distress you?" she exclaimed, throwing her mask at her feet.
"One word first," said De Morville; "I was not then deceived: this mysterious friend, who wrote to me without revealing her name——"
"Was I; yes, yes, your heart guessed rightly; but in heaven's name what disturbs you thus! is your life menaced?"
"Every thing is menaced,—my life, my reason, my love, my honour."
"What mean you?"