'You have betrayed me! You!' she repeated with a bitter laugh; then, springing up, she ran towards the spot where her sables lay heaped upon the floor just as Valerie had dropped them from her shoulders.
'It may be too late, but I will go myself. I will save him if I can!'
Valerie wrapped the cloak around her.
'Isolde, I will go with you.'
'You!' Isolde turned with a startling look of dislike and suspicion. 'No, I hate you, and I choose to go alone!'
Valerie drew back and Madame de Sagan passed her by and flung wide the door. As she did so a confused noise could be heard, and the two women stood listening while a distant hubbub of voices rose louder, then a pistol shot followed by others echoed down the passages.
'He is dead! By your fault!'
Isolde turned upon Valerie with a wild gesture, as if she would have struck her.
Valerie drew back.
'If you really loved him, Isolde, you would rather he was—there—with his honour—than—here—without it,' she said.