On the landing he told her that Ulick had gone away with the opera company, and that it was not likely that he and mademoiselle would see each other again.
"But when Mr. Dean comes back to London?" Mérat answered.
"Well, hardly even then; after a crisis like this she will not be anxious to see him. You know, Mérat, he was staying with me at Berkeley Square; and I knew of his visits here, only it seemed to me the only way to save her from religion was by getting her to go back to the stage."
Owen took breath; he had told his story, or as much as was necessary, omitting the fact that he was an accomplice in the love-making which had led to attempted suicide.
"You don't think I was right?"
"Well, Sir Owen, you see, I don't think mademoiselle will ever go back to the stage."
"You think that, Mérat? Well, then, the only thing to save her from religion is marriage. I don't mind telling you, nor is there any need to tell you—you must know—that I have always wanted her to be my wife, only she would not marry me, and for some reason impossible to get at."
"Mademoiselle is like nobody else; elle avait toujours son idée."
"Parfaitement, comme disent les paysannes de chez vous, d'une bête qui ne ressemble pas au troupeau et qui allait toujours."
"Oui, mademoiselle a eu toujours son idée. So Sir Owen thinks it was fear of going back to the stage that persuaded mademoiselle to—"