“Except on one subject, certainly,” replied Gabrielle.
“We will discuss the exceptions in private,” he returned with a frown.
“I beg you to excuse me, my lord.”
His answer was characteristic. He opened the door leading to an adjoining room and held it for her to pass out.
“Pardon me my insistence. What I have to say must be in private and cannot wait.”
For a moment Gabrielle rebelled, raising her head proudly and meeting his gaze firmly.
“I repeat, must be in private, mademoiselle,” he said, adding as an afterthought: “And it cannot fail to interest you, seeing whom it concerns.”
She went then and he followed, maintaining silence until they were alone.
“There must be no misunderstanding between us, my lord,” cried Gabrielle, at once throwing down the gauge of defiance. “The Duchess, your wife and my dear friend, has at your instigation made me acquainted with your proposal—a proposal I deem infamous and unholy—and no power you can exert can bring me even to consider it. I pray you spare me the pain of any further reference to it.”
“You are wrong to meet me thus at the outset with antagonism. You have heard as yet but one side only, and must bear with me while I speak of the other. I am far from being your enemy, Heaven knows.”