The face of the baroness became crimson.
“The child is mad!” she said.
The child burst out laughing.
“That’s my way,” she went on. “You should not have sent me here by chance, and against my wish. You made me do it: don’t complain. You were sure that I had but to appear, and M. de Tregars would fall at my feet. I appeared, and—you saw the effect through the keyhole, didn’t you?”
Her features contracted, her eyes flashing, twisting her lace handkerchief between her fingers loaded with rings,
“It is unheard of,” said Mme. de Thaller. “She has certainly lost her head.”
Dropping her mother an ironical courtesy,
“Thanks for the compliment!” said the young lady. “Unfortunately, I never was more completely in possession of all the good sense I may boast of than I am now, dear mamma. What were you telling me a moment since? ‘Run, the Marquis de Tregars is coming to ask your hand: it’s all settled.’ And what did I answer? ‘No use to trouble myself: if, instead of one million, papa were to give me two, four millions, indeed all the millions paid by France to Prussia, M. de Tregars would not have me for a wife.’”
And, looking Marius straight in the face,
“Am I not right, M. le Marquis?” she asked. “And isn’t it a fact that you wouldn’t have me at any price? Come, now, your hand upon your heart, answer.”