“Look here! Reflect! If you remain here he'll come to-morrow to take you away, seeing that he is your husband, seeing that he has right and law on his side.”
“I did not ask you to keep me in your own house, Jacques, but to take me anywhere you like. I thought you loved me enough to do that. I have made a mistake. Good-by!”
She turned round and went toward the door so quickly that he was only able to catch hold of her when she was outside the room:
“Listen, Irene.”
She struggled, and would not listen to him. Her eyes were full of tears, and she stammered:
“Let me alone! let me alone! let me alone!”
He made her sit down by force, and once more falling on his knees at her feet, he now brought forward a number of arguments and counsels to make her understand the folly and terrible risk of her project. He omitted nothing which he deemed necessary to convince her, finding even in his very affection for her incentives to persuasion.
As she remained silent and cold as ice, he begged of her, implored of her to listen to him, to trust him, to follow his advice.
When he had finished speaking, she only replied:
“Are you disposed to let me go away now? Take away your hands, so that I may rise to my feet.”