I tell you that it is."

Almost beside myself with irritation, and uncertain whether I most
loved or detested her, I drew her violently round towards me, bent over
her and pressed my lips on hers, wet, ice-cold, and quivering. If there
is anything in magnetism, or power to subdue another's volition, it
ought to have acted fully then. I myself was at that moment the
incarnation of will. My whole system was bowed to the intense effort to
make her, by force, say what I desired.

"Say yes," I insisted.

She struggled violently, and the lips fluttered dumbly under mine; her
breast swelled against mine; her soft hand tried to push back my
shoulder.

"Say it," and I pressed her lips harder.

Either the force of the stronger will, or mere passion--and I am
inclined to think the latter--had its influence.

"Yes, then, yes," she said, in a faint convulsive murmur, that was only
just audible, but with the whole accent of assent in it.

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise, absolutely. Oh, let me go. I am suffocated."

I released her instantly. I had no desire to keep her now that the
point was gained, and I did not believe from her character that once
having spoken she would retract. She started up, rose from the chair
apparently with difficulty, made a few steps as if to cross the room,
staggered, and, before I could reach her, fell heavily her full length
along the floor. Her head, with its soft mass of bright hair, struck
the ground almost at my feet, the pale face, drenched with tears,
turned upward to the light. God! what a brute I felt! What had I done?
I felt as if I had struck her. The first impulse of tenderness towards
her welled up over my passion and turned it to a desperate
self-reproach. A second later, Mrs. Grant came into the room.

"What has happened?" she said quickly, and then, as her gaze took in
Lucia's figure, she turned to me with a blaze of anger in her eyes.
"What have you been saying?" she exclaimed. "I will not have these
scenes, Victor! I shall forbid you to see her!"

She fell on her knees beside Lucia, and unfastened the collar of her
dress, still wet and stained with tears.

"Shall I not lift her up?" I asked, and Mrs. Grant raised her face
again to me, white with suppressed anger.

"No," she answered, curtly. "Will you kindly leave this room. Your
presence here is not needed."

I looked towards the fallen figure on the rug. The light head and the
stone-white face seemed to multiply int