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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"Count Hannibal A Romance of the Court of France"

And as I trust that this good father," he went on,
turning to the ecclesiastic, and speaking with the sneer from which he
seldom refrained, Catholic as he was, when he mentioned a priest, "has by
this time succeeded in removing the other, and persuading you to accept
his ministrations--"
"No!" she cried impulsively.
"No?" with a dubious smile, and a glance from one to the other. "Oh, I
had hoped better things. But he still may? He still may. I am sure he
may. In which case, Mademoiselle, your modesty must pardon me if I plead
urgency, and fix the hour after supper this evening for the fulfilment of
your promise."
She turned white to the lips. "After supper?" she gasped.
"Yes, Mademoiselle, this evening. Shall I say--at eight o'clock?"
In horror of the thing which menaced her, of the thing from which only
two hours separated her, she could find no words but those which she had
already used. The worst was upon her; worse than the worst could not
befall her.
"But he has not persuaded me!" she cried, clenching her hands in passion.
"He has not persuaded me!"
"Still he may, Mademoiselle."
"He will not!" she cried wildly. "He will not!"
The room was going round with her. The precipice yawned at her feet; its
naked terrors turned her brain.


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