"Madame," he said, speaking first to disembarrass her, "here is
something which belongs to you."
The outstretched arm and paper fascinated her. She did not move.
"It is yours, Madame. It is the list of the cabal. I was going to
bring it to you in the morning." He forced a smile to his lips to
reassure her.
Ah, those treacherous knees of hers! Where was her courage? Alas,
for that magnanimous resolve! Whither had it flown? But as the
firelight bathed his pale face and emphasized the grey hair and the red
scar above one of his temples, both her courage and resolve came back.
She walked slowly over to him and took the paper, approached the fire,
sank, and eagerly scanned the parchment. She gave a cry of exultation,
end thrust the evil thing into the flames.
"Burn!" she cried, clasping her hands. "Burn, burn, burn! And let all
the inglorious past burn with you! Burn!"
It was almost hysterical; it was almost childish; but he thought he had
never seen a more exquisite picture. And she was so soon to pass out
of his life as completely as though she had never entered it. From
somewhere she had obtained a blue velvet gown with slashed sleeves and
flaring wrists, of a fashion easily fifty years old.
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