Between you and me lie two great gulfs.

The one I have told you of; and from it I shrink.

The other I have not told you of; from it you would shrink." "The first is your Quest of the Sangreal." She smiled assent, bitterly enough.
"And the second ?" She did not answer.

She was looking at herself in the mirror; and Stangrave, in spite of his almost doting affection, flushed with anger, almost contempt, at her vanity.
And yet, was it vanity which was expressed in that face?
No; but dread, horror, almost disgust, as she gazed with side-long, startled eyes, struggling, and yet struggling in vain, to turn her face from some horrible sight, as if her own image had been the Gorgon's head.
"What is it?
Marie, speak!" But she answered nothing.

For that last question she had no heart to answer; no heart to tell him that in her veins were some drops, at least, of the blood of slaves.