Regina felt Gabrie's slim, cold fingers on her neck. The gold-embroidered collar, which reached to her very ears, choked her. She turned round, flushed and angry. Was she angry with Gabrie or with the collar? She did not know, but she flew out at Gabrie.
"Women! Aren't you a woman yourself, pray? Be so kind as to drop that tone. I can't endure it!"
"I know you can't," said the other meekly. "But is that my fault?"
Regina looked at her while she held her breath, fastening the overtight bodice. What did Gabrie mean? Had her words some occult signification?
"How old are you?"
"Why do you ask? I'm twenty. Why?"
"Really?"
"Really. Why should I hide it? As I shan't find a husband——"
"Don't be pathetic. I can't stand that, either."