"Ah, how strange you are!" he exclaimed, tenderly. "Such contradictions—on s'y perd. I wish you would say that to them, that way. Everything would be right."
"Never, never!" said the girl. "I have wronged them, and nothing will ever be the same again. It was fatal. If I felt as they do I too would loathe the person who should have done such a thing. It doesn't seem to me so bad—the thing in the paper; but you know best. You must go back to them. You know best," she repeated.
"They were the last, the last people in France, to do it to. The sense of excruciation—of pollution," Gaston rejoined, making his reflections audibly.
"Oh, you needn't tell me—I saw them all there!" Francie exclaimed.
"It must have been a dreadful scene. But you didn't brave them, did you?"
"Brave them—what are you talking about? To you that idea is incredible!"
"No, it isn't," he said, gently.
"Well, go back to them—go back," she repeated. At this he half threw himself across the table, to seize her hands; but she drew away and, as he came nearer, pushed her chair back, springing up. "You know you didn't come here to tell me you are ready to give them up."
He rose to his feet, slowly. "To give them up? I have been battling with them till I'm
