“Another reason is that you can not afford to leave such proofs in my hands. I assure you that it would be folly to make of a man like me, who would willingly die for you, an open and implacable enemy.”
“I understand. A man like you would die willingly for a woman, but he insults and threatens her, like the vilest of men, with a punishment more cruel than death itself. Well! it matters little to me. I shall not be in the pavilion where you have spoken to me of your love, and I will have it torn down and the debris of it burned within three days. I shall not await you. I shall never see you again. I do not fear you. And I leave you the right of doing with those letters what you please!”
Then, surveying him from head to foot, as if to measure the degree of audacity to which he could attain, “Adieu!” she said.
“Au revoir!” he rejoined coldly, giving to the salutation an emphasis full of hidden meaning.
The Tzigana stretched out her hand, and pulled a silken bellcord.
A servant appeared.
“Show this gentleman out,” she said, very quietly.
CHAPTER XIV. “HAVE I THE RIGHT TO LIE?”
Then the Tzigana’s romance, in which she had put all her faith and her belief, had ended, like a bad dream, she said to herself: “My life is over!”