"Mademoiselle?" There was a note of surprise in the query.
"Tell him to go!" she reiterated, with nervous vehemence.
There fell an abrupt silence. Then she heard an imperious snap of the fingers from Pierre, followed instantly by the steward's retiring footsteps.
She waited till she heard them no longer, then slowly she turned. Pierre had not moved from his chair. He was gripping the arms as before. She stood with her back to the light, thankful for the dimness that obscured her face.
"I—I have something to say to you, monsieur," she said.
"I am listening, mademoiselle," he responded briefly, not raising his eyes.
"Ah, but you must help me," she said, and her voice shook a little. "It—it is no easy thing that I have to say."
He made a fierce movement of unrest.
"How can I help you? I have given you your freedom. What more can I do?"
"You can spare me a moment's kindness," she answered gently. "You may be angry with yourself, but you need not be angry with me also."