"Be my wife ...

my princess ...

let me feel that no one could come between us...." "But my guardian would never consent," she protested.
"Surely your love for me can dispense with Sir Marmaduke's consent...." "A secret marriage ?" she asked, terrified at this strange vista which his fiery imagination was conjuring up before her.
"You refuse?
..." he asked hoarsely.
"No! no! ...

but ..." "Then you do not love me, Suzanne." The coolness in his tone struck a sudden chill to her heart.

She felt the clasp of his arms round her relax, she felt rather than saw that he withdrew markedly from her.
"Ah! forgive me! forgive me!" she murmured, stretching her little hands out to him in a pathetic and childlike appeal.