Read "Under the Red Robe" by Stanley J. Weyman online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
'You! ' she cried, in a voice which pierced my heart. 'You are M. de Berault? It is impossible! ' But, glancing askance at her -- I could not face her I saw that the blood had left her cheeks.
'Yes, Mademoiselle,' I answered in a low tone. 'De Barthe was my mother's name. When I came here, a stranger, I took it that I might not be known; that I might again speak to a good woman, and not see her shrink. That, and -- but why trouble you with all this? ' I continued rebelling, against her silence, her turned shoulder, her averted face. 'You asked me, Mademoiselle, how I could take a blow and let the striker go. I have answered. It is the one privilege M. de Berault possesses.'