‘My dear child,’ he answered, ‘what strange illusions are you nursing? Intrigues and plots, and watching and reports! Don’t believe in any such nonsense, I implore you.’
‘What has Laurent been telling you about me? I insist—I will know.’
‘Laurent has been telling me that he thinks you are likely to find a change beneficial, and that you ought not to be left here alone.’
‘Why not?’ she asked, with a flash of rage. ‘Why am I incapable of taking care of myself?’
‘You are not strong or well,’ said Paul. ‘You are not quite mistress of your own emotions.’
‘Ah!’ she cried, ‘now we are to have the accusation. I am going mad! Is that it? You would like to get rid of me on that ground? Do I understand at last?’
Paul would have been blind if he had failed to see that beneath the air of scorn she strove to wear there was some real terror in her mind, and he did his best to soothe it.
‘All these things are the merest fancies,’ he began.
‘Oh yes,’ she broke in. ‘Delusions! That is step number one. We suffer from delusions.’
‘If you believe in anything of the sort that you suggest, you are mistaken. If you wish to be happy, you must banish all that nonsense from your mind. It is pure nonsense, dearest. Why should Laurent try to poison my mind? He likes you very well. He takes a warm interest in you, to the best of my belief. But you are really very fanciful and strange to-day, and you have been giving yourself up far too much to solitude for two months past. It is your duty to yourself and me to accept Laurent’s advice. You must not be left here alone. You may choose your own companion. She shall be entirely at your orders. You shall engage her yourself; you shall pay her salary; she shall be at your own control.’