'René, I entreat you,' she went on, with tears in her voice and in her eyes, 'do not cast me off! Since we love each other, let us be happy. Take me as I am, with all the wretchedness of my life. It is true--I love luxury, I love gaiety, I love the Paris you hate. I shall never have the courage to break my bonds and give all this up. Take me for what I am, now that you know all, now that you feel I am speaking the truth when I swear I love you as I have never loved before. Keep me! I will be your slave, your thing! When you call me, I will come. When you drive me away, I will go. Do not look at me with such eyes, I implore you--let your heart be softened! When you came to me, did I ask you whether you had another mistress? No; I had but one wish--to make you happy. Can you reproach me for having kept all the misery of my life from you? Look at me--I kneel before you and beseech you----' She had, indeed, thrown herself at his feet. She took no heed of prudence now, nor of the possibility of a servant entering the room. Clinging to his garments, she dragged herself about on her knees. Never had she looked so beautiful as when, with eyes aglow and her face burning with all the fire of passion, she at length laid aside the mask and proclaimed herself the sublime courtesan she had always been. René's senses were in a state of wild commotion, but a cruel reminiscence flashed across his brain, and he flung his words at her with an insulting sneer-- 'And what about Desforges?' 'Don't speak of him,' she moaned, 'don't think of him! If I could get rid of him or forbid him the house, do you think I should hesitate? Don't you understand what a hold he has upon me? My God! My God! It is not right to torture a woman like this! No,' she added, in a dull, despairing tone, still on her knees, but now immovable and with hanging head, 'no, I can bear it no longer!' 'Then accept my offer,' said René; 'there is still time. Let us fly together.' 'No,' she replied, in accents of still greater despair, 'no; I can't do that either. It would be so easy to make a promise and break it. But I have already lied too much.' She rose. The crisis through which she had passed was beginning to react upon her nerves, and she repeated wearily, 'I can't do that either--I can't.' 'What, then, do you want?' he cried in tones of fury. 'Why were you on your knees just now? A toy--a plaything--is that what you want me to be? A young man whose caresses would compensate you for those of the _other!_' His anger carried him away, and the brutal words almost led to deeds. He strode towards her with uplifted fist and with an expression so terrible that she thought he was going to kill her. She drew back, pale with fear, and with outstretched hands. 'Forgive me, forgive me!' she cried in her distraction. 'Don't hurt me!'