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Words: 52213 in 37 pages
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. He had but to open his eyes and look forgiveness and her warm body would be pressed again to his breast, her soft arms would be around his neck and her soft lips would shower kisses on his face. ... He drew a sharp breath and rose slowly and uncertainly.
"Jacqueline!" he said in an unsteady voice, not daring to let his wavering eyes look down. "Jacqueline, you must go!"
A long, convulsive sob and:
"Ah, why did I go at all? Why did I ever go?" she moaned. "You would have killed me and that would have been the end of it! Louis, forgive me! Forgive me!" And she clasped his limp hand in both of hers and looked up piteously.
"What will become of me?" she pleaded, as her instinct told her that he was weakening.
"Go back to him! Go back to the man who would have killed himself for you!" he cried in a voice that he tried in vain to make as bitter as the words. And he made no effort to free his hand. The answer was a barely audible whisper:
"He is dead!"
Floriot jerked his hand away with an exclamation of horror and sprang back, his eyes flashing with anger.
"So that is why you've come back!" he blazed furiously.
The flaming scorn in his eyes stopped her.
"And I was on the point of yielding!" His laugh made the woman wince. "What a fool I was! I actually believed you! So he is dead, is he?"
She bowed her head in utter despair.
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