“Why do you not upbraid me?” she said. “Why do you not say ‘I told you so’?”
“Because it does not occur to me.”
“Ah! you would make a fine virtue of forbearance; you would be the patient ass to my vanity, would you not, monsieur?”
“I would let mademoiselle ride me rough-shod till I fell dead.”
“And so leave me the living monument to your nobility. But it is not generous, monsieur, thus to rebuke me with silence.”
“I did not intend to——”
“And, after all, it was the hog that struck most effectively.”
“And that is conceded, mademoiselle; and the hog is generously decorated.”
She mused up at me rebelliously.
“I do not even know your name.”