He tried to utter this last sentence in an expressionless fashion, not wishing to betray the emotion which almost made him cry out. Nevertheless his voice shook.
A silence fell which she did not at once break. A seat was at hand and she sat down. At last it seemed as if she had made up her mind.
"Your leaving us so hurriedly makes it difficult for me I assure you," she declared in a blank voice in which she too concealed her feelings which were not devoid of a certain annoyance with the Captain. "You must know that I need the advice of a good friend, and I thought of speaking to you, but here you are about to leave us. It's a pity."
"I'm not going for a couple of hours yet," returned Didier frigidly, "and if I can be of any use to you. Mlle. . . ."
"Well then, I will tell you," said Françoise with a casual air. "Will you believe that an incident has happened this evening which I was far from expecting. You must know that Count de Gorbio has amused himself by making love to me. Everyone took it in fun, and I myself was I don't know how far from treating him seriously. I called him 'my admirer,' laughing a little at him and at his manner, which is slightly too affected for my liking. But what can one do? Tastes differ. Personally I like men to be men. The Count with his butterfly manners never attracted me. . . . But perhaps I'm boring you with my silly tales. . . ."
"I'm not losing a single word, Mlle."
"Well, now, to come to the main point. Count de Gorbio told me this evening that he was in love with me. He has spoken to my father who, he says, would be happy to accept him as a son-in-law. In short he asks me to marry him. I told him that I wanted time for reflection, and in view of my friendship with you and my reliance on your judgment, I've come straight away to you for reflection! Tell me frankly, Monsieur d'Haumont; what do you advise me to do?"
As she spoke she took his hand, for she saw him standing before her as motionless as a statue and she was dismayed by his silence. She did not doubt that he loved her, and his attitude pained her as much on his account as it pained her on her own. She motioned him to a seat beside her on the settle where during the last two months they had had so many pleasant discussions. While he remained like one petrified she no longer concealed her agitation. And was not the gesture, the rather peremptory gesture of her hand, by which she asked him to sit down beside her, was it not the most significant of avowals?
Then Didier's voice was heard. Neither of them recognized it. Who and what was this third person who came between them and was now speaking?
"You know the Count better than I do, Mademoiselle, and in such a matter, what I think or what I do not think is of no consequence."