She allowed her head to fall on the back of the divan; looking at this man as she well knew how, and insensibly creeping closer to him, she breathed in his ears these burning words:
"Formerly, one who was your friend was beside me, is that not so?"
"Do not speak to me of him," José said abruptly.
"On the contrary, I am determined to tell you that even if I had loved him, I should not have hesitated for a moment to leave him and follow you. But I did not love him."
"Marianne!"
"You won't believe me? I never loved him. I have never been his mistress."
"I do not ask your secret. I do not speak of him," said the duke, who had now become deadly pale.
"And I am determined to speak to you of him. Never, you understand, never was Guy de Lissac my lover. No, in spite of appearances; he has never even kissed my lips. I thought I loved him, but before yielding, I had time to discover that I did not love him! And I waited, I swear to you, expecting that you would say to me: 'I love you!'"
"I?"
"You," said Marianne, in a feeble tone. "You never guessed then?"