He may leave me, personally, alone; but he will be on your track; he'll drag you to the Conciergerie to report yourself, and there your true name and history are bound to come to light.

If you succeed in evading him, he will still be on your track.

If the Scarlet Pimpernel keeps you in Paris now, your death will be at his door." Her voice had become quite hard and trenchant as she said these last words; womanlike, she was already prepared to hate the man whose mysterious personality she had hitherto admired, now that the life and safety of Armand appeared to depend on the will of that elusive hero.
"You must not be afraid for me, Jeanne," he urged.

"The Scarlet Pimpernel cares for all his followers; he would never allow me to run unnecessary risks." She was unconvinced, almost jealous now of his enthusiasm for that unknown man.

Already she had taken full possession of Armand; she had purchased his life, and he had given her his love.