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- Александр Дюма
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- Стр. 715/849
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Milady
,
with
a
rapid
gesture
,
opened
her
robe
,
tore
the
cambric
that
covered
her
bosom
,
and
red
with
feigned
anger
and
simulated
shame
,
showed
the
young
man
the
ineffaceable
impression
which
dishonored
that
beautiful
shoulder
.
"
But
,
"
cried
Felton
,
"
that
is
a
FLEUR-DE-LIS
which
I
see
there
.
"
"
And
therein
consisted
the
infamy
,
"
replied
Milady
.
"
The
brand
of
England
!
--
it
would
be
necessary
to
prove
what
tribunal
had
imposed
it
on
me
,
and
I
could
have
made
a
public
appeal
to
all
the
tribunals
of
the
kingdom
;
but
the
brand
of
France
!
--
oh
,
by
that
,
by
THAT
I
was
branded
indeed
!
"
This
was
too
much
for
Felton
.
Pale
,
motionless
,
overwhelmed
by
this
frightful
revelation
,
dazzled
by
the
superhuman
beauty
of
this
woman
who
unveiled
herself
before
him
with
an
immodesty
which
appeared
to
him
sublime
,
he
ended
by
falling
on
his
knees
before
her
as
the
early
Christians
did
before
those
pure
and
holy
martyrs
whom
the
persecution
of
the
emperors
gave
up
in
the
circus
to
the
sanguinary
sensuality
of
the
populace
.
The
brand
disappeared
;
the
beauty
alone
remained
.
"
Pardon
!
Pardon
!
"
cried
Felton
,
"
oh
,
pardon
!
"
Milady
read
in
his
eyes
LOVE
!
LOVE
!
"
Pardon
for
what
?
"
asked
she
.
"
Pardon
me
for
having
joined
with
your
persecutors
.
"
Milady
held
out
her
hand
to
him
.
