"Showing a visitor round the garden. You should be there, too."
"Doubtless," replied the Comte, without stirring. He crossed one booted leg over the other, and looked at her. She withdrew her hand, and, shaking it, dried it on her handkerchief.
"Laurence," said the young man suddenly, "don't you think that you are treating me very badly?"
"O, I hope not!" said the Vicomtesse quite seriously.
"We were friends once," said Armand.
"And now—surely not enemies?"
"On my soul, I had rather have you for an enemy than for—an acquaintance!"
"A compliment?" asked the Vicomtesse. "Yes, I suppose it is.... Armand, I have fallen in love ... with your wife."
"If that is, in return, a compliment to me, I thank you."
"Really, I do not know whether it is or no. If you will permit me to say so, I do not know how she came to marry you."