“She is going to ask you to talk to him, since it seems he refuses to listen to her.”
“I wonder,” said Selden, “if all this could be the baron’s idea?”
“But of course—his or the king’s. They would like to pluck the family clean.”
“Well, young Davis will never marry the Princess Anna.”
“Do not be too sure,” the countess warned him. “The baron is one of the cleverest men in Europe—a genius at manipulations of this sort. It is true that in this case he has for an opponent a very clever woman. You know very well that I mean Madame Ghita,” she went on, in answer to his look, “and that she destines that young man for this girl she calls her niece.”
“I have seen the girl,” said Selden. “She seems very nice. Is she not her niece?”
The countess shrugged her shoulders.
“How do I know? Cicette Fayard is the name she goes by.”
“And she also will pluck him clean?”
“Can you doubt it?” asked the countess, a malicious light in her eyes.