"Yes, I do." And he set his teeth—certainly she was difficult!
"That is fortunate for you, since you are going to do so."
This was not encouraging; it was also unexpected.
"Yes, I am," he answered, "on the 25th of October, with your permission."
"I have already consented." And she clasped her hands.
"May I sit down beside you and talk?" he asked.
She pointed to a Louis XVI. bergère which stood opposite, and herself took a small armchair at the other side of the fire.
So they sat down, she gazing into the blazing coals and he gazing at her. She was facing the gloomy afternoon light, though she did not think out these things like her uncle, so he had a clear and wonderful picture of her. "How could so voluptuous looking a creature be so icily cold?" he wondered. Her wonderful hair seemed burnished like dark copper, in the double light of fire and day, and that gardenia skin looked fit to eat. He was thrilled with a mad desire to kiss her; he had never felt so strong an emotion towards a woman in his life.
"Your uncle tells me you are going away to-morrow, and that you will be away until a week before our wedding. I wish you were not going to be, but I suppose you must—for clothes and things."
"Yes, I must."