'Are you composed enough to see her, after the shock
that you have suffered?' he asked.
She trembled, the flush on her face died away, and left it deadly pale.
But she held to her resolution. 'You have heard of what I saw last night?'
she said faintly.
'Don't speak of it!' Henry interposed. 'Don't uselessly
agitate yourself.'
'I must speak! My mind is full of horrid questions about it.
I know I can't identify it--and yet I ask myself over and over again,
in whose likeness did it appear? Was it in the likeness of Ferrari?
or was it--?' she stopped, shuddering. 'The Countess knows, I must
see the Countess!' she resumed vehemently. 'Whether my courage fails
me or not, I must make the attempt. Take me to her before I have time
to feel afraid of it!'
Henry looked at her anxiously. 'If you are really sure of your
own resolution,' he said, 'I agree with you--the sooner you see
her the better. You remember how strangely she talked of your
influence over her, when she forced her way into your room in London?'
'I remember it perfectly. Why do you ask?'
'For this reason.
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