INDECISION
that I could tell you what I had to say. That I have sinned is because—well, because I had hoped that, after all, madame, perhaps the blood could flow warmly from your heart.” He tossed his chin defiantly. “You have scorned me for one who bears false witness, though you have seen your English captain go pale at the mention of those papers. You will believe what he says and scorn me, in whom runs the blood of the same grandparents as yourself. You have looked upon me as an impostor. Eh bien. Think what you will. Impostor I am not.” He drew himself up and said, clearly, in a full measure of pride and dignity, “I am René de Añasco, Vicomte de Bresac.”
He moved to the door, looking not at her or even noticing the contemptuous laugh of Captain Ferrers; then, slowly, “I leave you, madame. To-morrow I will be but a memory—an evil dream, which soon passes away. You have chosen to be my enemy and to send me away from you in scorn, hatred, and disbelief. Let it be so. But remember, madame, when I am gone every pretty sweetmeat you put in your
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