“I’ll go. Hypocrite!”
Josephine received Camille with a bright smile. She seemed in unusually good spirits, and overflowing with kindness and innocent affection. On this his high gloomy brow relaxed, and all his prospects brightened as by magic. Then she communicated to him a number of little plans for next week and the week after. Among the rest he was to go with her and Rose to Frejus. “Such a sweet place: I want to show it you. You will come?”
He hesitated a single moment: a moment of intense anxiety to the smiling Josephine.
“Yes! he would come: it was a great temptation, he saw so little of her.”
“Well, you will see more of me now.”
“Shall I see you every day—alone, I mean?”
“Oh, yes, if you wish it,” replied Josephine, in an off-hand, indifferent way.
He seized her hand and devoured it with kisses. “Foolish thing!” murmured she, looking down on him with ineffable tenderness. “Should I not be always with you if I consulted my inclination?—let me go.”
“No! consult your inclination a little longer.”
“Must I?”