Page:A Passionate Pilgrim and Other Tales (1875).djvu/256

250 one of the stock phrases of romance. Well, there she stood with her mask in her hand. Her face," he went on gravely, after a pause,—"her face was horrible!" "I give you ten minutes," she had said, pointing to the clock. "Make your scene, tear your hair, brandish your dagger!" And she had sat down and folded her arms. "It's not a joke," she cried, "it's dead earnest; let's get through with it. You're dismissed! Have you nothing to say?" He had stammered some frantic demand for an explanation; and she had risen and come near him, looking at him from head to feet, very pale, and evidently more excited than she wished to have him see. "I've done with you!" she said with a smile; "you ought to have done with me! It has all been delightful, but there are excellent reasons why it should come to an end." "You've been playing a part, then," he had gasped out; "you never cared for me?" "Yes; till I knew you; till I saw how far you 'd go. But now the story's finished; we 've reached the denouement. We 'll close the book and be good friends." "To see how far I would go?" he had repeated. "You led me on, meaning all the while to do this?" "I led you on, if you will I received your visits in season and out! Sometimes they were very entertaining; sometimes they bored me fearfully. But you were such a very curious case of—what shall I call