82 A DRAMATIC VERSION OF
BLANCHE,
I know how you must despise me—oh!
you are right. I am too poor a creature
to occupy one thought of your mind.
Alas! although you must die for me to-
morrow-—[She stops short, and watts for
him to respond, but DENYS is indeed think-
ing of something else.) What! You are
too proud to link yourself with the dis-
honoured house of Malétroit? I too have
my pride: and now—and now—I would
no more marry you than I would marry
my uncle’s groom.
[Stamps her foot. DENYS turns round
and looks at her tngutringly. He
has not heard what she has been
saying; he becomes again absorbed
in his own thoughts. BLANCHE
gets angrier and angrier, stamps
again, and, not attracting his atten-
tion, falls into the chaty and cries
petulantly.
BLANCHE.
It’s too hard. To ask and be refused--—
I,a Malétroit. [DENvys comes back into the
room and faces her. She rises and strikes
him across the face with her glove.) Cowardly
boy! [DENys turns furiously red, catches
her suddenly in his arms and kisses her,
flings her away, drops to the floor and groans
in an agony of shame and love.| Double
coward! [She reels away as tf he had struck
her: comes back to where he crouches, bends
over him and strokes his hatr.) Denys!
Monsieur Denys! I am so sorry. You are
going to die so soon and I am rude to you—
when it is all my fault.
[Denys rises and stands facing her
manfully.
DENYS.
Die! Not I! Blanche, when I kissed
you I loved you: I loved you when I saw
you in the doorway, and I know you love
me now.
BLANCHE.
:
Sir! I do not love you.
speak to me so?
How dare you
DENYS.
You love me. [Laughing.] Why, you
said so | |
BLANCHE,
You pass my patience, sir. I was acting,
acting for your own safety. I made the
most shameful declaration a maid can make
for your sake—and you fling it in my teeth.
[Denys kuows his triumph, and pro-
ceeds to enjoy it with laughing
speech, as one with a petulant child.
DENys.
I fail to see that my safety is any the
more assured now-—without it. Yes, Mon-
sieur de Maladroit, I accept your offer with
the best will in the world.
BLANCHE.
O you despicable coward! I will kill
you at the very altar-steps.
DENYS,
Yours is a wonderful strong family for
killing, little one.
BLANCHE,
Mademoiselle de Malétroit is my name.
DENYS.
For half-an-hour-—nay ! barely that.
[BLANCHE stamps her foot and turns
away ansry. Breaks down and
kneels in chatr, crying. DENYS
follows and stands above her.
DENYS.
O Blanche! Blanche! Do you not see
how every tear is like a drop of poisonous