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"Come, all is not lost yet," he said briskly "If I can escape from the

house--"

"He knows you," she answered

"What?"

"He knows you," Mademoiselle repeated in a tone almost apathetic "I

read it in his eyes He knew you at once: and knew, too," she added

bitterly, "that he had here under his hand one of the two things he

required"

"Then why did he hide his knowledge?" the young man retorted sharply

"Why?" she answered "To induceyou Oh!" she continued in a tone of bitter raillery, "he

has the cunning of hell, of the priests! You are no match for hiesture of despair--"he

will be my master! He will break me to his will and to his hand! I

shall be his! His, body and soul, body and soul!" she continued

drearily, as she sank into a chair and, rocking herself to and fro,

covered her face "I shall be his! His till I die!"

The man's eyes burned, and the pulse in his temples beat wildly

"But you shall not!" he exclai, you say well But I can kill him And I will!" He paced up

and down "I will!"

"You should have done it when he was here," she answered, half in scorn,