"My dear boy," he said--and his voice, usually so metallic and harsh, became tender--"tell me the truth. Are you sorry for the resolution you took?" "I am sorry that I have been unjust," replied Verdier, with a voice almost as broken as that of his master. "I regret to have been unjust, Your Highness, and I would like to ask the pardon of the woman whom I have misjudged." "You will have all the time you want to ask pardon in," replied the Archduke. "Of that you may be assured. It is from her that this knowledge comes. Is it not so, madame?" he replied, looking at Ely. "Yes," replied the young woman. "You see I was right," replied the Prince. "Come," he said, with a peculiar mixture of pity and abruptness, "look into your heart. You have had eight days in which to make up your mind. Do you still love her?" "I love her dearly," replied Verdier, after a short silence. "Another good man ruined," said the Prince, shrugging his shoulders. He accompanied the brutal triviality of his remark with a deep sigh which took away its cynicism. "So," he continued, "the life that we lead together, a life that is so full, so noble, so free, does not suffice now: our manly joy and the proud happiness in discovering that we have so often felt together, that has rewarded us largely, royally, and fully so often, is no longer enough for you? You want to re-enter that hideous society that I have taught you to judge at its true value? You wish to marry, to leave this refuge, leave science, leave your master and your friend?" "But, Your Highness," interrupted Verdier, "can I not be married and continue to work with you?"