"I can, and I will," laughing mockingly. "Take your choice now, monsieur—my time is limited. Shall it be love—or—death?"
With ineffable scorn, although his handsome features had waned to a marble pallor, he replied, in a voice of proud disdain:
"Such love—the love of a guilty, wicked woman like you, Madame Lorraine—leaves one no choice but death!"
[CHAPTER XIX.]
He never forgot the glare of rage the angry woman fixed upon him for a moment.
Her eyes fairly blazed as she hissed, vindictively:
"You have made your choice, and mine is the last human face you will look upon. A few days of isolation in this dreary chamber, without food or drink, and you will go mad with horror and die of starvation. Adieu, monsieur. I wish you bon voyage to Hades!"
She made him a mocking courtesy, and swept to the door, tearing it open with such impetuous haste that the listener outside had no time to step aside, only to spring up wildly and confront the angry woman, who immediately uttered a shriek of horror and fled up the narrow stair-way, disappearing through the secret door in an incredibly short space of time.