had pierced her where she was without shield; she did not reply, and he pursued his advantage.
"Tell me,—will your new and eccentric fancy for 'honour' be greatly gratified by the deliberate rupture of your sworn word? When men and women talk much of their honour, to be sure they are always conscious of having lost it, or being just about to lose it with a more flagrant bankruptcy than common; but still, your newly-adopted principle will be ill-commenced by the repudiation of your pledged oath, of your bound engagement."
Still she said nothing, only in her eyes suppressed passion gleamed, and her hand clenched as though, but for her dignity's sake, it would have found force to strike him where he stood.
Conrad Phaulcon smiled.
"I am no tyrant, no harsh task-master, my most beautiful Countess, and I frankly admit that I admire you more in your haughty rebellion than I do in the softest smile with which you enchant all our good friends. I exact nothing. I command nothing. I merely remind you—you cannot break from me without also breaking your promise, and more than your promise—your oath. However, a woman's word, I suppose—even when it is sworn, even when it is the word of such a woman as your-
