"Do not call it by so harsh a word. It is true that you are in my house, hidden in an underground apartment; but it was for your own good that I brought you here. You had fatally wounded Remond, and the authorities were after you. I--I love you," falteringly. "I could not give you up to justice. So you are here--a prisoner, if you will, but a beloved and well cared-for one." "Yes, I have received skillful care and attention from your servant. I thank you," very stiffly; "but now I am well, I desire to go." "I am suspected of harboring you. My house is watched by officers of the law. Should you go out, you would be instantly arrested. _Mon Dieu_! that must not be!" She looked at him with tender, pleading eyes. He answered, curtly: "If I have hurt Remond, I am willing to answer to the law for my crime committed in the defense of the weak and the helpless. I have no wish to shirk my punishment. You understand me now, and you will let me go. I demand my release!" Clasping her jeweled hands together in pretended despair, she exclaimed: "But, good Heaven! _mon ami_, I can not let you be so reckless. Think a moment what will happen if they take you into custody. If the man dies, you may be--hung!" "I take all the risk; only show me the way out of my hated prison!" he exclaimed, impatiently; and, with sudden passion, Mme. Lorraine answered, boldly: "Then, by Heaven, I will not! There is but one way by which you can ever leave this room, whose existence is known to no human being but Mima, myself, and you." She saw him grow deathly pale to the roots of his hair, as he asked, with pretended coolness: "And that way, my darling jailer?" With something like a blush struggling through the cosmetics that covered her face, she replied firmly, although in a low voice: "As my husband." There was an awkward silence; the man was blushing for her; the dark-red flush went up to the roots of his hair; she saw it, and bit her lips. At last he said, with cool disdain: "You have already a husband in an insane asylum." She interrupted, eagerly: "No, no--not my husband. I am free--that is, I was divorced by law from him years ago." She came nearer; she flung herself, with a rustle of silk and heavy waft of patchouli, down by his side on the sofa. Looking up into his face with burning eyes, she exclaimed, wildly: