Page:The Story of Manon Lescaut and of the Chevalier des Grieux.pdf/213

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THE STORY OF MANON LESCAUT.
217

My broken voice betrayed to Manon the fact that I was weeping, and at last she spoke.

"I must indeed be guilty," she murmured sadly, "since it seems that I have caused you so much pain and distress; but may Heaven be my judge if I have been so wittingly, or if I have harbored any intention of becoming so!"

This declaration appeared to me so devoid alike of meaning and of candor, that I could not restrain a fierce outburst of indignation.

"Such base dissimulation as this," I cried, "only serves to show me more plainly than ever how false and shallow is your heart. At last your odious character stands revealed to me in its true light. Farewell, unworthy being!" I continued, rising to my feet; "from this time forth we are strangers. Rather would I die a hundred deaths than remain any longer in your toils! I, too, invite the retribution of Heaven if ever I honor you again with a single glance. Stay here with this last gallant of yours: give him your love; reserve your hatred for me! Renounce honor, renounce reason—do what you will; scorn and indifference are all that I can feel for you henceforth!"

This passionate outbreak so terrified Manon that she