Corinne's first thought was a wish for Odette's total annihilation; her second, to bless her. Of course, she interrupted them at a most interesting crisis; but still, she could entertain Paul for a few minutes, while Corinne could slip away, change her dress, and reappear in all her war-paint and feathers, when they could resume their conversation at the point where they had left off.
"I leave you with Odette; but, if you will be so kind as to wait for me, I will soon return."
Odette and Paul were alone.
"If you will take the trouble to buy me a—"
"Forgive me for interrupting you," said Paul; "but, I am afraid I could not pay any attention to your commission just now. I want to speak to you on a very serious subject, and I implore you to listen to me."
She glanced at him, saw his pallor and agitation, and understood him immediately. Her eyes looked almost contemptuous as she seemed to think: "What a pity! Another man in love with me; and he was such a pleasant friend!"
Paul continued: "You must have noticed the happiness it has always given me to be with you. Family reasons have prevented my explaining myself before; now, they are at an end, and I come to you boldly, to say I love you."
She sat quietly opposite him, playing carelessly with the fringe of the parasol in her hand.
Paul continued passionately: "I adore the very trifles you have touched. Believe me, this has been in my mind from the first hour I ever saw you. I address myself to you, rather than to your father, as I know your choice will have his approval."
Odette leaned back in her chair, crossed her hands on her lap, and, in a calm tone, with a slight, contemptuous inflection, said: "Your proposal is a great compliment, sir. As such, I thank you, as I thank all who come to me on the same errand. But I must reply as I have replied to those who have done me so much honor: I do not wish to marry."