She
could not utter more, but her hand grasped his with a fierce
pressure, as if wanting to hold him fast in the very moment of
refusal.
He started back, as if touched by fire. "You love me, but will not
marry me! Angelique, what mystery is this? But you are only trying
me! A thousand thanks for your love; the other is but a jest,--a
good jest, which I will laugh at!" And Le Gardeur tried to laugh,
but it was a sad failure, for he saw she did not join in his effort
at merriment, but looked pale and trembling, as if ready to faint.
She laid her hands upon his heavily and sadly. He felt her refusal
in the very touch. It was like cold lead. "Do not laugh, Le
Gardeur, I cannot laugh over it; this is no jest, but mortal
earnest! What I say I mean! I love you, Le Gardeur, but I will not
marry you!"
She drew her hands away, as if to mark the emphasis she could not
speak. He felt it like the drawing of his heartstrings.
She turned her eyes full upon him now, as if to look whether love of
her was extinguished in him by her refusal.
Pages:
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471