"I can only think of one thing," she said at last. "I must see Louis Gravani, and tell him all." "No, no; I tell you he will kill me." "He loves you, May; and I must appeal to him to act like a gentleman in this terrible strait." "Don't I tell you that he is a passionate Italian, and that he would kill me. He always used to say that he felt as if he could stab anybody who came between us. Oh, Claire, what shall I do? My poor life's full of miserable troubles. I wish I were dead." "Hush, May, and try and help me, instead of acting in this childish way." "There, now you turn against me." "No, no, my poor sister. I want to help you, and give you strength." "Then you will help me, Claire?" "Help you!" said Claire reproachfully. "Did I spare my poor reputation for your sake?" "Oh, don't talk of that now, only tell me, what shall I do?" "You must come with me." "With you, dear? Where?" "Home, to your father's roof; and we must tell him all. He will protect you." "Come--home--tell poor papa? No--no--no, I cannot--I dare not." "You must, May. It were a shame and disgrace to stay here, now that you know your husband is alive." "My first husband, Claire dear," said May pitifully. "Oh, hush, May; you'll drive me mad. There, go and dress yourself, and come home." "I will not--I daren't," cried May; "and, besides, this is my home." "And Louis? Am I to tell him where you are?" "No, no. I tell you he would kill me. I must have time to think. Didn't you tell me he was going to wait, Claire? Look here, I dare not see him. No, everything is over between us. You must see him, dear." "See him?" said Claire. "Yes, dear, yes. Oh, Claire, Claire!" she cried wildly, going upon her knees to her sister, "pray--pray, save me. Tell Louis I am not married to Frank. Tell him he must go away, and not come back till I write to him." "May, how can you be so childish?" cried Claire piteously. "I am not childish. This is not childish. I know--I know--tell him this, and he will go away." "Tell him this?" "Yes, yes; don't you understand? He is very stupid; tell him I am dead." "May!" "Stop a moment; you said he was going to wait." "Till I can give him news of you." "Yes; then you must keep him quiet for a day or two, till I have had time to think." "There is no time." "Give me till to-morrow, Claire. Don't you see I am all confused, and mad with grief?" "Till to-morrow?" said Claire, gazing at her, for it was like a respite to her as well, in her horrible doubt and confusion of intellect. "Yes, till to-morrow. I will shut myself up in my room till then, and try and think out what will be best. There, go now. I can't talk to you; I can't think; I can't do anything till you are gone; and I must have time." Claire left her at last unwillingly, but with the understanding that May was to stay in her own room till the next day, and await her return.