diligence."

He was less to her than the dust under her feet, and his protestations
had not even the power to rouse her wrath. Indeed, all that worried her
at this moment was vexation with herself for having troubled to listen
to him at all: it had been worse than foolish to suppose that he had any
news to impart which did not directly concern himself. So now, while he,
utterly taken aback, was staring at her open-mouthed and bewildered, she
turned away, cold and full of disdain, gathering her draperies round
her, and started to walk slowly toward the stairs. Her clinging white
skirt made a soft, swishing sound as it brushed the tiled floor, and she
herself--with her slender figure, graceful neck and crown of golden
curls, looked, as the gloom of evening wrapped her in, more like an
intangible elf--an apparition--gliding through space, than just a
scornful woman who had thought fit to reject the importunate addresses
of an unwelcome suitor.

She left de Marmont standing there in the corridor--like some
presumptuous beggar--burning with rage and humiliation, too
insignificant even to be feared. But he was not the man to accept such a
situation calmly: his love for Crystal had never been anything but a
selfish one--born of the desire to possess a high-born, elegant wife,
taken out of the very caste which had scorned him and his kind: her
acquiescence he had always taken for granted: her love he meant to win
after his wooing of her hand had been successful--until then he could
wait. So certain too was he of his own power to win her, in virtue of
all that he had to offer, that he would not take her scorn for real or
her refusal to listen to him as final.

IV

Before she had reached the foot of the stairs, he was already by her
side, and with a masterful hand upon her arm had compelled her, by
physical strength, to turn and to face him once more.

"Crystal," he said, forcing himself to speak quietly, even though his
voice quivered with excitement and passionate wrath, "as you say, I have
only a few moments to spare, but they are just long enough for me to
tell you that it is you who are mad. I daresay that it is difficult to
believe in the immensity of a disaster. M. de St. Genis no doubt has
been filling your ears with tales of the allied armies' victories. But
look at me, Crystal--look at me and tell me if you have ever seen a man
more in deadly earnest. I tell you that I am on my way to aid the
Emperor in reformi