It was, then, if she might believe him, some appointed crisis in her fate; and how should she tell him of Glyndon's hateful words?
The pure and the proud mind can never confide its wrongs to another, only its triumphs and its happiness.

But at that late hour would Zanoni visit her,--could she receive him?
Midnight was at hand.

Still in undefined suspense, in intense anxiety, she lingered in the room.

The quarter before midnight sounded, dull and distant.

All was still, and she was about to pass to her sleeping-room, when she heard the hoofs of a horse at full speed; the sound ceased, there was a knock at the door.