"'Father,' said she again, 'must I do that?'
"Agnes waited for a little while, then again said:
"'Father, must I do that? Is there nothing else? Must I do that?'
"'Yes.'
"There was another space of breathless silence, and then one of the women began to cry; the others joined in with her. Arnold de Villeneuve was dead.
"Agnes arose from the side of the bed where she sat, and, without saying a word, walked slowly and stiffly out of the room.
"That same afternoon her waiting-woman came to Raymond Lulli, and told him that her mistress wished to speak with him. He followed the woman up the long flight of steps to the door of Agnes's chamber. He knocked, and heard a faint voice within bid him enter. Agnes was standing in the centre of the room, clad in a dark rich dress, heavily embroidered with seed-pearls. Her dark hair was gathered loosely behind by a golden serpent which held the locks together. There were no signs of tears upon her pale face, but her eyes were encircled by dark rings.
"Raymond stood for a moment looking at her. 'Agnes!' he cried, and then came forward into the room, and took her into his arms. She neither yielded nor resisted, but stood passive and motionless. There was something about her that struck a chill through him; he drew back, and looked into her face. 'Agnes,' he said, 'what is it? Are you ill? Do you not love me?'
"There was a moment's pause. 'Yes,' said Agnes, 'I love you.'