"It is the same. He was wide of the mark, as I am. Tell me, countess, are your wits always so ready?"
"You, at least, will always find them so," she answered, bitterly.
"You are unkind. You stab my vanity, as you have pierced my heart."
At this speech Hedwig raised her eyebrows and stared at him in silence. Any other man would have taken the chilling rebuke and left her. Benoni put on a sad expression.
"You used not to hate me as you do now," he said.
"That is true. I hated you formerly because I hated you."
"And now?" asked Benoni, with a short laugh.
"I hate you now because I loathe you." She uttered this singular saying indifferently, as being part of her daily thoughts.
"You have the courage of your opinions, countess," he replied, with a very bitter smile.
"Yes? It is only the courage a woman need have." There was a pause, during which Benoni puffed much smoke and stroked his white moustache. Hedwig turned over the leaves of her book, as though hinting to him to go. But he had no idea of that. A man who will not go because a woman loathes him will certainly not leave her for a hint.