d,
like an enchanting dream about to be realized. She repeated: "When will
you run away with me?"

He replied, in low tones: "This evening--to-night."

She asked, quivering: "And where shall we go to?"

"That is my secret. Reflect on what you are doing. Remember that after
such a flight you can only be my wife. It is the only way, but is--it is
very dangerous--for you."

She declared: "I have made up my mind; where shall I rejoin you?"

"Can you get out of the hotel alone?"

"Yes. I know how to undo the little door."

"Well, when the doorkeeper has gone to bed, towards midnight, come and
meet me on the Place de la Concorde. You will find me in a cab drawn up
in front of the Ministry of Marine."

"I will come."

"Really?"

"Really."

He took her hand and pressed it. "Oh! how I love you. How good and brave
you are! So you don't want to marry Monsieur de Cazolles?"

"Oh! no."

"Your father was very angry when you said no?"

"I should think so. He wanted to send me back to the convent."

"You see that it is necessary to be energetic."

"I will be so."

She looked at the vast horizon, her head full of the idea of being ran
off with. She would go further than that with him. She would be ran away
with. She was proud of it. She scarcely thought of her reputation--of
what shame might befall her. Was she aware of it? Did she even suspect
it?

Madame Walter, turning round, exclaimed: "Come along, little one. What
are you doing with Pretty-boy?"

They rejoined the others and spoke of the seaside, where they would soon
be. Then they returned home by way of Chatou, in order not to go over
the same road twice. George no longer spoke. He reflected. If the little
girl had a little courage, he was going to succeed at last. For three
months he had been enveloping her in the irresistible net of his love.
He was seducing, captivating, conquering her. He had made himself loved
by her, as he knew how to make himself loved. He had captured her
childish soul without difficulty. He had at first obtained of her that
she should refuse Monsieur de Cazolles. He had just obtained that she
would fly with him. For there was no other way. Madame Walter, he well
understood, would never agree to give him her daughter. She still loved
him; she would always love him with unmanageable violence. He restrained
her by his studied coldness; but he felt that she was eaten up by hungry
and impotent passion. He could never bend her. She wo