for one so like ze fox! Ah, Corinne, my sweetest lofe--"

"You don't mean that."

"Not mean him! _Mon Dieu!_ How can you haf ze heart to say ze cruel
word. Corinne, you are ze only frient I haf in ze whole bad worlt."

"Yes, I know that. But not the only wife."

"Why you torture me so, Corinne?"

"I wont. We'll let it go. You need me, I suppose?"

"You use all ze cold word, Corinne. I neet you! _Oui, oui_, I efer neet
you. I neet you ven I stay from you ze longest. I neet you ven ze bad
come into my heart and drive out ze good and tender, and leave only ze
hard, and make me crazy and full of dream of fortune. Zen I am out of
myself and den I neet you ze most, Corinne. Zat I haf been cruel and
vicked, I know, but I am punish now. Now, I neet you in my despair, but
if you come to speak bitter, I am sorry to haf send for you."

"I'll not be bitter, Tulitz. I don't believe you love me, and I never
will believe it again. So don't say tender things. They only make me
sad. Tell me what--"

"You do pelief I lofe you."

"No."

"_Cherie._"

"Don't, Tulitz!"

"You know I haf a so hot blood. It tingle viz lofe for you and I am
sane. Zen I dream. I see some strange sight--power, money, ze people at
my feet--ze people I hate, bah! I see zem all bend. Zen I am insane and
my very lofe make me vorse. Ah, Corinne, if you see my heart, you vould
not speak so cold. If I could preak zis iron door zat bar me from you
and draw you close to me, Corinne, vere you could feel ze quick beat zat
say, 'lofe! lofe! lofe!'--if I could take your hand and kees--"

"Tulitz!"

"My sveetheart!"

"Hush, please, Tulitz. Don't say those things now. I can't stand them. I
shall scream. Tulitz, I love you so!"

"Ah, I know zat. You haf no dream zat rob you of your mind. And I shall
haf no more soon. Ven ze trial come, and ze shury make me guilty, and ze
shudge--"

"No! no! You must escape."

"Ze reech escape, little von. Ze poor nefer. Zat is law. Ha! ha! you
know not law. Law is ze science by vich a man who has money do as he tam
please and snap his finger--so! and shrug his shoulder--so! and say,
'You not like it? Vat I care, Monsieur?' and by vich ze poor man, vedder
he guilty or not, haf no single chance, not von, to escape. I haf not
efen ze two huntret tollaire zat gif me my liberty till ze trial come."

"Neither have I, Tulitz, and the only way I can get it is to part with
something I love better than--never mind, you shall have