So Odalite reveled in a fanciful freedom, which to her was delightfully real.
Le looked at her, watched her, studied her.
Her eyes were bright with pleasure, her cheeks flushed with health, her lips smiling in mirth, her step was so light that she seemed to dance along the sands, and her voice was so fresh and cheerful that it was impossible to believe that she cherished any other feeling on the subject of her broken marriage than one of delight at her enfranchisement.
“Odalite,” he said, at length, “you seem very happy.”
“I am very happy,” she replied, beaming.
“Then you have not the least regret for that——”
“There! Stop just there, Le, dear! Never mention that nightmare dream to me while you live!” said Odalite, in a commanding but jubilant tone.
“Well, then, I won’t. Goodness knows I am not so fond of him as to want to ring the changes on his name!”
“It was nothing but a nightmare dream, Le, and I wish to forget all about it.”
“Then you never loved him——”