"How, why?"
"I belong to him, or shall."
"Do you mean that you are married to Anastase?"
"Not yet, or I should not be here."
"But you will be?"
"Yes,—that is, if nothing should happen to prevent our being married."
"You like to be so, I suppose?"
She gazed up and smiled. Her eyes grew liquid as standing dew. "I will not say you are again audacious, because you are so very innocent. I do wish it."
"I said like, Fräulein Cerinthia."
"You can make a distinction too. Suppose I said, No."