"You and I will never understand one another, Régine," he began; then added quickly, "over these matters," because, following on his cruel words he had heard the tiny cry of pain, so like that of a wounded bird, which much against her will had escaped her lips. "You do not understand," he went on, more quietly, "that in a great cause the sufferings of individuals are nought beside the glorious achievement that is in view." "The sufferings of individuals," she murmured, with a pathetic little sigh. "In truth 'tis but little heed you pay, Bertrand, to my sufferings these days." She paused awhile, then added under her breath: "Since first you met Theresia Cabarrus, three months ago, you have eyes and ears only for her." He smothered an angry exclamation. "It is useless, Régine----" he began. "I know," she broke in quietly. "Theresia Cabarrus is beautiful; she has charm, wit, power--all things which I do not possess." "She has fearlessness and a heart of gold," Bertrand rejoined and, probably despite himself, a sudden warmth crept into his voice. "Do you not know of the marvellous influence which she exercised over that fiend Tallien, down in Bordeaux? He went there filled with a veritable tiger’s fury, ready for a wholesale butchery of all the royalists, the aristocrats, the bourgeois, over there--all those, in fact whom he chose to believe were conspiring against this hideous Revolution. Well! under Theresia's influence he actually modified his views and became so lenient that he was recalled. You know, or should know, Régine," the young man added in a tone of bitter reproach, "that Theresia is as good as she is beautiful." "I do know that, Bertrand," the girl rejoined with an effort "Only----" "Only what?" he queried roughly. "I do not trust her . . . that is all." Then, as he made no attempt at concealing his scorn and his impatience, she went on in a tone which was much harsher, more uncompromising than the one she had adopted hitherto: "Your infatuation blinds you, Bertrand, or you--an enthusiastic royalist, an ardent loyalist--would not place your trust in an avowed Republican. Theresia Cabarrus may be kind-hearted--I don't deny it. She may have done and she may be all that you say; but she stands for the negation of every one of your ideals, for the destruction of what you exalt, the glorification of the principles of this execrable Revolution." "Jealousy blinds you, Régine," he retorted moodily. She shook her head. "No, it is not jealousy, Bertrand--not common, vulgar jealousy--that prompts me to warn you, before it is too late. Remember," she added solemnly, "that you have not only yourself to think of, but that you are accountable to God and to me for the innocent lives of Joséphine and of Jacques. By confiding in that Spanish woman----" "Now you are insulting her," he broke in mercilessly. "Making her out to be a spy."