"I cannot, Judith; I cannot."
"You will give Florry to this man for his wife!"
"I must."
"You see, mademoiselle—"
"Be silent, monsieur," she said, haughtily; "I do not speak to you. Francis Marson, your daughter was left to my charge by your dead wife, and I say she shall not marry this man."
"Judith! Judith! I have seen—I have seen the papers."
"Ah!" said Judith, with a long-drawn breath, "you have seen the papers."
"But yes, certainly," observed Judas, with a sneer. "And having seen them, monsieur is prepared to give me his child. Is it not so?"
Marson nodded his head mechanically, but Judith, standing beside him, turned suddenly on the smiling Frenchman with such vehemence, that he recoiled from her fury.
"You have threatened an old man," she hissed, angrily. "You have learned a secret by chance, and you use it for your own base ends. But it shall not be; I say it shall not be."