"Alexis, did you bring that proposal to me deliberately?"
"Yes. It was scarcely a question I could answer for you."
"Couldn't you?" Her eyes rested on mine with an expression that at another time I should have read as reproach. "Did you think there could be any but one answer?"
"No, I didn't. But one never knows," I said, remembering what she had said just before the gallop.
"Don't you? Well, you must think we Russian women are poor stuff! One day, ready to sneak off in disgraceful cowardice: and the next, willing to marry an utterly despicable wretch because he has money and influence and position. Do you mean to tell me that you, acting as my brother, actually let this man make this proposition in cold blood, and did not hurl him out of your rooms? You!"
I stared at her in sheer amazement at the change, and could find not a word to say. Nor was there any need. Now that her real feelings had forced themselves to words she had plenty: and for some minutes she did nothing but utter protestation after protestation of her hatred and contempt of Devinsky: while her hits at me for having been the mouthpiece of the man were many and hard. What angered her was, she said, to feel that the smallest doubt of her intention had been left in Devinsky's mind; and it was not till I told her much more particularly and exactly all that had passed on this point that she was satisfied.
We had ridden some way homewards when her mood changed again, and laughter once more prevailed.
"So you told him I must choose between him and—my brother; or rather my present relationship to you?"