I have read--many romances, my heart not
lacking interest. Always I have read, I have dreamed, of some man
who should carry me away, who should oblige me--Ah, Madame! what
girl has not in her soul some hero? Almost I was about to say it
was the sight, the words, of the boldness, the audacity of this
assassin, this brute, who has brought us here by force--the words
of his love so passionate to madame, which stirred in my own heart
the passion! That I might be stolen! It was the dream of my
youth! And now comes this Hector, far more bold and determined
than this Mr. Dunwodee. That assassin, that brute _began_, but
hesitated. Ah, Hector has not hesitated! Seeing that he would in
any case possess myself, would carry me away, I yielded, but with
honor and grace, Madame. As between Monsieur Dunwodee and
Hector--_il y a une difference_, Madame!"
"_Je crois qu' oui_, Jeanne--_Je le crois_! But it comes to the
same thing, eh? You forsake me?"
"Madame, I confess sometimes in my heart there comes a desire for a
home, for a place where one may abide, where one may cease to
wander.
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