“Indeed, we are not exchanging compliments, but facts. We have never loved each other.”
“Oh, as for myself, I cannot allow that; I have a great affection for you, countess.”
“Come, monseigneur, let us esteem each other enough to speak the truth, and that is, that there is between us a much stronger bond than love—that is, interest.”
“Oh, countess, what a shame!”
“Monseigneur, if you are ashamed, I am not.”
“Well, countess, supposing ourselves interested, how can we serve each other?”
“First, monseigneur, I wish to ask you a question. Why have you failed in confidence towards me?”
“I! How so, pray?”
“Will you deny that, after skilfully drawing from me the details—which, I confess, I was not unwilling to give you—concerning the desire of a certain great lady for a certain thing, you have taken means to gratify that desire without telling me?”
“Countess, you are a real enigma, a sphinx.”