She looked at him with a terrible intensity, whilst her face shone with superhuman ardour.
“Nothing without you!” she said. “Everything with you! Decide!”
“Impossible!”
With a sorrowful smile, she continued—
“Reflect! You know what I am. If you wish, I will live, but only to be yours. I will come whenever you want me, and will not trouble you in any way. Oh! every expiation and sacrifice, every grief and pain imaginable, to be yours once more!”
Steps were heard mounting the staircase. Marcel, terror-struck, said—
“They are coming! They will take you! If you wish to save your life, leave the room at once!”
“Let them come! They will only take me if I am willing. I have nothing to fear from any other than yourself. Do you wish me to live? Swear that you will see me again!”
At that supreme moment the pale faces of General de Trémont and poor Laforêt, of Agostini, dead, and Hans, lying on the blood-stained stone, rose before Marcel’s imagination, and an insurmountable horror came over him. He bent his head without a word. A slight noise of something touching glass caused him to look up. He saw Sophia drinking the poison. Rushing up, he dashed from her hands the empty glass. Smiling, she said—
“Too late!”