“I cannot help it,” answered he; “the eyes of France are upon me. If I betrayed my commission for the sake of a beautiful woman like you, Robespierre would not have thunderbolts enough to strike me with.”
“Just so,” she said; “you all strike because you are afraid of being struck yourselves.”
“Well; what do you want?”
“You know. I want liberty.”
“I understand.”
“And the liberty of M. de Fontenay.”
“Of that I wash my hands,” he exclaimed hastily. Then softening his voice: “I was told you were divorced?”
“Perhaps so; but at this moment I am more than ever the wife of my husband.”
“But if he is guilty and you are not?”