"Yes, unhappy, indeed," resumed Jeanne, "because I have nothing to cling to, nothing to sustain me. My mind is afflicted with feverish thoughts, my heart made desolate with bitter regrets. My will alone protects me, and in a moment of weakness it may betray me." "You still love him?" asked Madame Desvarennes, in a deep voice which made Serge quiver. "Do I know? There are times when I think I hate him. What I have endured since I have been here is incredible! Everything galls me, irritates me. My husband is blind, Micheline unsuspicious, and Serge smiles quietly, as if he were preparing some treachery. Jealousy, anger, contempt, are all conflicting within me. I feel that I ought to go away, and still I feel a, horrible delight in remaining." "Poor child!" said Madame Desvarennes. "I pity you from my soul. Forgive my unjust words; you have done all in your power. You have had momentary weaknesses like all human beings. You must be helped, and may rely on me. I will speak to your husband to-morrow; he shall take you away. Lacking happiness, you must have peace. Go you are a brave heart, and if Heaven be just, you will be rewarded." Serge heard the sound of a kiss. In an embrace, the mother had blessed her adopted daughter. Then the Prince saw Madame Desvarennes go slowly past him. And the silence was broken only by the sobs of Jeanne who was half lying on the sofa in the darkness. CHAPTER XVI THE TELLTALE KISS Serge slipped from his hiding-place and came toward Jeanne. The carpet deadened the sound of his steps. The young woman was gazing into vacancy and breathing with difficulty. He looked at her for a moment without speaking; then, leaning over her shoulder. "Is it true, Jeanne," he murmured, softly, "that you hate me?" Jeanne arose, bewildered, exclaiming, "Serge!" "Yes, Serge," answered the Prince, "who has never ceased to love you." A deep blush spread over the young woman's face. "Leave me," she said. "Your language is unworthy of a man. I will not listen to you." And with a quick step she walked toward the gallery. Serge threw himself in her way, saying: "You must stop; you cannot escape me." "But this is madness," exclaimed Jeanne, moving away. "Do you forget where we are?" "Do you forget what you have just been saying?" retorted Serge. "I was there; I did not miss a word." "If you heard me," said Jeanne, "you know that everything separates us. My duty, yours, and my will." "A will which is enforced, and against which your heart rebels. A will to which I will not submit." As he spoke, Serge advanced toward her, trying to seize her in his arms. "Take care!" replied Jeanne. "Micheline and my husband are there. You must be mad to forget it. If you come a step farther I shall call out." "Call, then!" cried Serge, clasping her in his arms. Jeanne tried to free herself from him, but could not.