"No," she broke in, "you would not."
"Will you be so gracious as to explain?"
"No," Rosemary went on lightly, "I don't think I will. You would not understand—even then."
"Then," he said coolly, "there is nothing left for me to do but to take my leave, and to deplore that you should have wasted so much of your valuable time in conversation with a clod."
He rose, and bowing low, he put out his hand in order to take hers, but Rosemary did not move.
"You cannot go, Monsieur le Général," she said firmly, "without giving me a definite answer."
"I have given you a definite answer, dear lady. It is my misfortune that you choose to treat it as ludicrous."
"But surely you were not serious when you suggested——"
"When I suggested that the mischief wrought by two traitors should be remedied by one who takes an interest in them? What could be more serious?"
"You seriously think," she insisted, "that I would lend myself to such traffic? that I would put my name to statements which I could not verify, or to others that I should actually believe to be false? Ah çà, Monsieur le Général, where did you get your conception of English women of letters, or of English journalists?"