“You have asked pardon of God, I hope?”
I tossed my head.
“For what, madam? What have I done?”
She appealed to the priest, with a little momentary helpless gesture; then bit her thin lips, as if stung by his silent perversity to resolution.
“For the deceit you have long practised on us,” she said.
“O, madam,” I answered, “do you refer to the gentleman’s attentions to me? I could hardly be so immodest as to confess of them to you, when I did not even know to what end they were advanced.”
She held up her hand dully.
“I allude to your privately sitting to him for—for that—for his model,” she said.
“Why, I had my respected example, madam,” said I. “I didn’t know but what we were expected to accommodate the gentleman, seeing you yourself gave us the lead.”
She rose quickly, striking her hand on the table.