"No; but if I have an enemy I like him at a distance."
"Foolish woman! If I have an enemy I like him here, close to me, where my hand can reach him. I will have him--if I have the choice--as I have now--in the light, not in the dark."
Annette also had a conversation with her trusty maid Emily concerning this new revelation in Gilbert Bidaud's character. Annette was very enthusiastic about it, and very self-reproachful concerning the past, but Emily looked grave and shook her head.
"I'd rather agree with you than not, miss," she said, "but I don't think I can about your uncle."
"You must not be obstinate and prejudiced, Emily," said Annette, with mild severity.
"I'll try not to be, miss, but if an animal is born a donkey, a donkey he remains all the days of his life."
Annette laughed, and said, of course, but what did Emily mean?
"It's a roundabout way of explaining myself," said Emily. "And there's different kinds of donkeys, some mild, and that'll take the whip as patient as a wooden dummy; others that'll kick out and let fly at you with their heels. The same with horses, the same with dogs, the same with cats."
"What do you mean, Emily?"
"Only when vice is in an animal you can't wheedle it out of him. No more you can out of a man or a woman. I don't say they can help it, but what's born in 'em must come out. If I'm born sly I keep sly, and the chances are I grow slyer as I grow older. I don't believe in sudden changes, miss, and if you'll excuse me I'll wait a little before I make up my mind about your uncle."