Page:Cyrano de Bergerac.djvu/296

284 them, she says, very slowly, with clasped hands,] And, fourteen years long, he has played this part

Of the kind old friend who comes to laugh and chat!

Roxane!

'Twas you!

No, never; Roxane, no!

I should have guessed, each time he said my name!

No; it was not I!

It was you!

I swear!

I see through all the generous counterfeit—

The letters—you!

No.

The sweet, mad, love-words! You!

No!