“Madame, you are enough to drive a man mad. Is the love I bear you worthy of nothing but mockery!” “No, Mr. Ormiston, it is not; that is, supposing you really love me, which you don't.” “Madame!” “Oh, you needn't flash and look indignant; it is quite true! Don't be absurd, Mr. Ormiston. How is it possible for you to love one you have never seen?” “I have seen you. Do you think I am blind?” he demanded, indignantly. “My face, I mean. I don't consider that you can see a person without looking in her face. Now you have never looked in mine, and how do you know I have any face at all?” “Madame, you mock me.” “Not at all. How are you to know what is behind this mask?” “I feel it, and that is better; and I love you all the same.” “Mr. Ormiston, how do you know but I am ugly.” “Madame, I do not believe you are; you are all too perfect not to have a perfect face; and even were it otherwise, I still love you!” She broke into a laugh--one of her low, short, deriding laughs. “You do! O man, how wise thou art! I tell you, if I took off this mask, the sight would curdle the very blood in your veins with horror--would freeze the lifeblood in your heart. I tell you!” she passionately cried, “there are sights too horrible for human beings to look on and live, and this--this is one of them!” He started back, and stared at her aghast. “You think me mad,” she said, in a less fierce tone, “but I am not; and I repeat it, Mr. Ormiston, the sight of what this mask conceals would blast you. Go now, for Heaven's sake, and leave me in peace, to drag out the rest of my miserable life; and if ever you think of me, let it be to pray that it might speedily end. You have forced me to say this: so now be content. Be merciful, and go!” She made a desperate gesture, and turned to leave him, but he caught her hand and held her fast. “Never!” he cried, fiercely. “Say what you will! let that mask hide what it may! I will never leave you till life leaves me!” “Man, you are mad! Release my hand and let me go!” “Madame, hear me. There is but one way to prove my love, and my sanity, and that is--” “Well?” she said, almost touched by his earnestness. “Raise your mask and try me! Show me your face and see if I do not love you still!” “Truly I know how much love you will have for me when it is revealed. Do you know that no one has looked in my face for the last eight years.” He stood and gazed at her in wonder. “It is so, Mr. Ormiston; and in my heart I have vowed a vow to plunge headlong into the most loathsome plague-pit in London, rather than ever raise it again. My friend, be satisfied. Go and leave me; go and forget me.” “I can do neither until I have ceased to forget every thing earthly. Madame, I implore you, hear me!” “Mr. Ormiston, I tell you, you but court your own doom. No one can look on me and live!” “I will risk it,” he said with an incredulous smile. “Only promise to show me your face.”