“Do you think he was not really invited to go to drive?” she asked, opening her eyes widely.
“Of a certainty not. But he could see he was not wanted by us. When he came near, you really looked to weep.”
“Oh, no!” she cried, in great distress.
“Yes; it was just so.”
There was a pause while she pondered this new phase of herself, and after a while he went on:
“There is something that I do not understand. Why do you desire so much to speak to me to-night and then not desire me at Constance? Ça—je ne le comprends pas!”
“You do understand,” she said; “I know you do, and you know that I know that you do.”
He looked at her for a few seconds and then asked:
“How long are you in Constance?”
“I do not know.”