‘Hardly: I am not of those men who are driven from houses,’ Alvan said, smiling. ‘But, madame, I will act on your warning, and spare her father, for all sakes, the attempt; seeing he does not yet know whom he deals with. I will write to him.’
‘Letters from you will be flung back unopened.
‘It may, of course, be possible to destroy even my patience, madame.’
‘Mine, sir, is at an end.’
‘You reduce us to rely on ourselves; it is the sole alternative.’
‘You have not waited for that,’ rejoined Frau von Rudiger. ‘You have already destroyed my daughter’s reputation by inducing her to leave her father’s house and hesitate to return. Oh! you are known. You are known for your dealings with women as well as men. We know you. We have, we pray to God, little more to learn of you. You! ah—thief!’
‘Thief!’ Alvan’s voice rose on hers like the clapping echo of it. She had up the whole angry pride of the man in arms, and could discern that she had struck the wound in his history; but he was terrible to look at, so she made the charge supportable by saying:
‘You have stolen my child from me!’
Clotilde raised her throat, shrewish in excitement. ‘False! He did not. I went to him of my own will, to run from your heartlessness, mother—that I call mother!—and be out of hearing of my father’s curses and threats. Yes, to him I fled, feeling that I belonged more to him than to you. And never will I return to you. You have killed my love; I am this man’s own because I love him only; him ever! him you abuse, as his partner in life for all it may give!—as his wife! Trample on him, you trample on me. Make black brows at your child for choosing the man, of all men alive, to worship and follow through the world. I do. I am his. I glory in him.’
Her gaze on Alvan said: ‘Now!’ Was she not worthy of him now? And would they not go forth together now? Oh! now!