"You might as well come to it and
tell the truth; that you do not like our society." And she gave him a
vicious little glance without a shadow of a smile.
"In God's name, Lady Mary, that is not it," answered Brandon, who was
on the rack. "Please do not think it. I cannot bear to have you say
such a thing when it is so far from the real truth."
"Then tell me the real truth."
"I cannot; I cannot. I beg of you not to ask. Leave me! or let me
leave you. I refuse to answer further." The latter half of this
sentence was uttered doggedly and sounded sullen and ill-humored,
although, of course, it was not so intended. He had been so perilously
near speaking words which would probably have lighted, to their
destruction--to his, certainly--the smoldering flames within their
breast that it frightened him, and the manner in which he spoke was
but a tone giving utterance to the pain in his heart.
Mary took it as it sounded, and, in unfeigned surprise, exclaimed
angrily: "Leave you? Do I hear aright? I never thought that I, the
daughter and sister of a king, would live to be dismissed by a--by
a--any one.
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