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 "There are none!" cried Harleigh, "to which you can pretend; none!"

"Comment cela? n'est-ce pas ma femme? Ne suis-je pas son mari?"

"No!" cried Harleigh, "no!" with the fury of a man seized with sudden delirium; "I deny it!—'tis false! and neither you nor all the fiends of hell shall make me believe it!"

Juliet again fell prostrate; but, though her form turned towards her assailant, her eyes, and supplicating hands, that begged forbearance, were lifted up, in speechless agony, to Harleigh.

Repressed by this look and action, though only to be overpowered by the blackest surmizes, Harleigh again stood suspended.

Finding the people of the inn were now filling the staircase, to see what was the matter, the foreigner, in tolerable English, told them all to be gone, for he was only recovering an eloped wife.