"
Etta stood dry-lipped before him. She tried to speak, but no words came
from her lips.
De Chauxville looked at her with a quiet smile of triumph, and she knew
that he loved her. There is no defining love, nor telling when it merges
into hatred.
"Thursday evening, before dinner," said De Chauxville.
And he left her standing on the hearth-rug, her lips moving and framing
no words.
CHAPTER XXXIV
AN APPEAL
"Have you spoken to the princess?" asked Steinmetz, without taking the
cigar from his lips.
They were driving home through the forest that surrounded Osterno as the
sea surrounds an island. They were alone in the sleigh. That which they
had been doing had required no servant. Paul was driving, and
consequently the three horses were going as hard as they could. The snow
flew past their faces like the foam over the gunwale of a boat that is
thrashing into a ten-knot breeze. Yet it was not all snow. There were
flecks of foam from the horses' mouths mingled with it.
"Yes," answered Paul. His face was set and hard, his eyes stern. This
trouble with the peasants was affecting him more keenly than he
suspected. It was changing the man's face--drawing lines about his lips,
streaking his forehead with the marks of care. His position can hardly
be realized by an Englishman unless it be compared to that of the
captain of a great sinking ship full of human souls who have been placed
under his care.
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