"That is but too true, indeed, and the unscrupulousness is not, alas! on the side of the mere mauvais sujets. Apropos, madame, you know all things; who then was the leader of the Carpathian episode?"
A stern impatience passed for an instant over the splendour of her face, mingled with something of more wounded pain.
"You must know too well whom I supposed to be so."
The answer was very low; there was a thrill of passionate shame in it.
"Ah!" There was a whole world of gentle sympathy, of profound comprehension in the deep breath he drew. "Was he not then implicated?"
She lifted her head and looked at him long and steadily: there was more than contemplation in the look. "You can better tell that than I."
"No. Indeed you wrong me, madame. May I hear what you think yourself now we are on the subject."
A scorn that she repressed in utterance flashed with a weary darkness in her eyes.
"I would have sworn—Yes. He has sworn to me by the only name I ever knew him to bold sacred, No."
"Why doubt him, then?"
