'It is time for me to go,' she said gravely. 'Open the door at once,
please.'

She could not believe that he would refuse to obey her, but he did not
move; he did not even look up, as he answered:

'If I keep you a prisoner, there will be a search for you. You may
stay here a day, a week, or a month, but in the end you will be found
here, in my rooms.'

'And set free,' the nun answered, from the door, with some contempt.

'Not as you think. You will be expelled from your order for scandalous
behaviour in having spent a night, or a week, or a month in an
officer's lodging. What will you do then?'

'If such a thing were possible, I would tell the truth and I should be
believed.' But her anger was already awake.

'The thing is very possible,' Giovanni answered, 'and no one will
believe you. It will be out of the question for you to go back to your
Convent, even for an hour. Even if the Mother Superior were willing,
it could not be done. In the Middle Ages, you would have been sent to
a prison for penitents for the rest of your life; nowadays you will
simply be turned out of your order with public disgrace, the papers
will be full of your story, your aunt will make Rome ring with it----'

'What do you mean by all this?' cried the Sister, breaking out at
last. 'Are you trying to frighten me?'

'No. I wish you to know that I will let nothing stand between you and
me--nothing, absolutely nothing.' He repeated the word with cold
energy. 'When it is known that you have been here for twenty-four
hours, you will be forced to marry me. Nothing else can save you from
infamy. Even Madame Bernard will not dare to give you shelter, for she
will lose every pupil she has if it is found out that she is
harbouring a nun who has broken her vows, a vulgar bad character who
has been caught in an officer's lodgings! That is what they will call
you!'

At first she had not believed that he was in earnest, but she could
not long mistake the tone of a man determined to risk much more than
life and limb for his desperate purpose. Her just anger leaped up like
a flame.

'Are you an utter scoundrel, after all? Have you no honour left? Is
there nothing in you to which a woman can appeal? You talk of being
human! You prate of your man's nature! And in the same breath you
threaten an innocent girl with public infamy, if she will not disgrace
herself of her own free will! Is that your love? Did I give you mine
for that? Shame on you! And