“What did she say to him?”
The countess smiled at remembrance of the baron’s face.
“I do not know exactly—except that she spoke of love.”
“Ah, you see!”
“But that does not discourage me,” went on the countess cheerfully. “On the contrary. Women really in love rarely speak of it. My own impression is that she is determined to make the best bargain she can—and she is right. But I shall have it out with her at lunch—that is, if she comes. She has not yet accepted, but I think she will, if only out of curiosity. There may be some fireworks, but in the end she will agree. I am sure of it.”
“Agree to what?” asked Selden.
“Agree to exchange the prince for the annuity which the king is now, for the first time, able to offer her.”
Selden made a grimace of distaste. All this was a little too cynical—especially as it touched Madame Ghita.
The countess looked at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement, not entirely free from malice.
“You do not like it?”