"Don't play with me!" he exclaimed. "I can't bear it. You sent me away.
Yet you had an appointment with Godensky. You took him into your
carriage; and now--"
"Marianne was in the carriage. If I could have had you with me, I should
have packed her off by herself, alone, that I--might be alone with you.
Oh, Raoul, it isn't _possible_ you believe that I could lie to you for
Godensky's sake--a man like that! If I'd cared for him, why shouldn't I
have accepted him instead of you? Could I have changed so quickly, do
you think?"
"I don't think; I'm not able to think. I can only feel," he answered.
"Then--feel sure that I love you--no man but you--now and always."
"Oh, Maxine!" he stammered. "Am I a fool, or wise, to let myself believe
you?"
"You are wise," I answered, as firmly as if I deserved the full faith I
was claiming from him as my right. "If you wouldn't believe, without my
insisting, without my explaining and defending myself, I'd tell you
nothing. But you _do_ believe, just because you love me--I see it in
your face, and thank God for it. So I'll tell you this. Count Godensky
hates me, because I couldn't and wouldn't love him, and he hates you
because he thinks I love you.
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