“Only a play of Corneille’s,” answered Rose; “Louis has just made me a present of it.”
At this avowal Danville’s suppressed anger burst beyond all control.
“Give it him back!” he cried, in a voice of fury. “You shall take no presents from him; the venom of the household spy soils everything he touches. Give it him back!” She hesitated. “You won’t?” He tore the book from her with an oath, threw it on the floor, and set his foot on it.
“Oh, Louis! Louis! for God’s sake, remember.”
Trudaine was stepping forward as the book fell to the floor. At the same moment his sister threw her arms round him. He stopped, turning from fiery red to ghastly pale.
“No, no, Louis!” she said, clasping him closer; “not after five years’ patience. No—no!”
He gently detached her arms.
“You are right, love. Don’t be afraid; it is all over now.”
Saying that, he put her from him, and in silence took up the book from the floor.
“Won’t that offend you even?” said Danville, with an insolent smile. “You have a wonderful temper—any other man would have called me out!”