“Do not misjudge her,” said the countess quickly. “She may not be at all sensible in the way you think. It was not because of the money she accepted—I am sure of it. I doubt if she will even use it for herself—you heard her stipulate that she might use it as she pleased.”
“Yes,” said Selden; “but that would be very—ah—unusual.”
“She is an unusual woman. And if she ever loves a man—really loves him—that man will be very fortunate; do you not think so?”
“Undoubtedly,” agreed Selden, trying to speak lightly. “I only hope she finds the right one!”
“So do I,” said the countess. “I am sure she will!” she added, with a little smile.
She was silent for a moment, looking at Selden’s troubled face, as though hesitating whether or not to say something more.
“At least,” she went on, at last, “your compunctions in that direction are at an end?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“I go to Nice this afternoon, as you know, to see Miss Davis. Then my work will be finished.”
“You are going away?”