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"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu, Madame!" he cried, "at what a cost!"

And that arrested, that touched her in the depths of her grief and her

horror; even while the gibbet on the causehich had burned itself

into her eyeballs, hung before her For she knew that it was the cost to

her he was counting She knew that for himself he had ever held life

cheap, that he could have seen Tignonville suffer without a qualhtfulness for her, the value he placed on a thing--even on a

rival's life--because its was dear to her, touched her hos could have moved her at that one before, with all that had passed between then More than she

had said she would not say; words of love, even of reconciliation, had no

place on her lips while he whom she had sacrificed awaited his burial

And meantime the man beside her lay and found it incredible "It was

just," she had said And he knew it; Tignonville's folly--that and that

only had led them into the snare and caused his own capture But what

had justice to do with the things of this world? In his experience, the

strong hand--that was justice, in France; and possession--that was law

By the strong hand he had taken her, and by the strong hand she ht

have freed herself