"I didn't know you wanted me," she said in a sort of wonder.
I looked full in her eyes, and I knew that there was in mine the look that declares love and asks for it. If her eyes answered, the vision might be reality. I pressed her hands hard. She gave a little cry, the sparkle vanished from her eyes, and their lids drooped. Yet a little colour came in her cheeks and the gray dawn showed it me. I hailed it with eagerness and with misgiving. I thought of Wetter waiting there among the trees, waiting till the moment when I wanted him.
"Do you love me, Elsa?" I asked.
The colour deepened on her cheeks. I waited to see whether her eyes would rise again to mine; they remained immovable.
"You know I'm very fond of you," she murmured.
"But do you love me?"
"Yes, of course I love you. Please let my hands go, Augustin."
If Wetter were listening, he must have smiled at the peal of laughter that rang out from me over the terrace. I could not help it. Elsa started violently as I loosed her hands; now she looked up at me with frightened eyes that swam in tears. Her lips moved; she tried to speak to me. I was full of brutal things and had a horrible longing to say them to her. There was a specious justice in them veneering their cruelty; I am glad to say that I gave utterance to none of them. We were both in the affair, and he is a poor sort of villain who comforts himself by abusing his accomplice.
"You're tired?" I asked gently.
"Very. But it has been delightful. M. de Varvilliers has been so kind."