“Is that unreasonable?”
Mme. de Beaudrillart flung back her head.
“I think so. If he regards the matter in the light of a bargain, I do not see where he comes in.”
“I imagine his daughter will think otherwise,” said Léon, caressing a kitten which had sprung on his knee.
Mme. de Beaudrillart replied, with perhaps unintentional bitterness:
“She, at any rate, may be satisfied with what she has got.”
“As to that,” returned her son, a little less lazily than he had hitherto spoken, “she has not yet consented.”
His mother folded her hands on the table before her, and looked steadily at him.
“Do me the favour, Léon, to explain.”
“It is perfectly simple. I do not think that I am repugnant to her; but she says that she must know me better, and judge for herself before deciding.”