"Why did she say that?" she asked without removing her eyes for a moment from the table.
"Well—perhaps you do not know this—but men are sometimes very unkind to women."
"I know, monsieur. Simon Barit, he often beats his wife."
He sat down on a chair opposite her. "There are many more ways of being cruel than that," he said. "Sometimes a kiss, or the gift of a flower, is worse than a blow. Often, Pippa, men play with women's hearts as—well, as Louis does with a spool."
A shadow fell on her face. "I think I understand, monsieur. That poor lady was afraid I should fall in love with you, but that you would not love me."
"That is partly what she meant."
Pippa rose and walked to the window. "To-night I think," she said, after a minute's silence, "that women have the most sorrow in life."
"They do, little one."
"But also the most joy, monsieur."
He rested his chin on his hand, but said nothing.