"My face, I mean. I don't consider that you can see a person
without looking in her face. Now you have never looked in mine,
and how do you know I have any face at all?"
"Madame, you mock me."
"Not at all. How are you to know what is behind this mask?"
"I feel it, and that is better; and I love you all the same."
"Mr. Ormiston, how do you know but I am ugly."
"Madame, I do not believe you are; you are all too perfect not to
have a perfect face; and even were it otherwise, I still love
you!"
She broke into a laugh -one of her low, short, deriding laughs.
"You do! O man, how wise thou art! I tell you, if I took off
this mask, the sight would curdle the very blood in your veins
with horror - would freeze the lifeblood in your heart. I tell
you!" she passionately cried, "there are sights too horrible for
human beings to look on and live, and this -this is one of
them!"
He started back, and stared at her aghast.
"You think me mad," she said, in a less fierce tone, "but I am
not; and I repeat it, Mr. Ormiston, the sight of what this mask
conceals would blast you. Go now, for Heaven's sake, and leave
me in peace, to drag out the rest of my miserable life; and if
ever you think of me, let it be to pray that it might speedily
end.
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