When she entered he threw himself on his knees and tried to take her hands, but she drew them away abruptly, and, as he remained at her feet, filled with anguish, his eyes raised to hers, she said haughtily:
“What are you doing, Monsieur? I do not understand that attitude.”
“Oh, Madame, I entreat you—”
She interrupted him harshly:
“Rise! You are ridiculous!”
He rose, dazed, and murmured:
“What is the matter? Do not treat me in this way—I love you!”
Then, in a few short, dry phrases, she signified her wishes, and decreed the situation.
“I do not understand what you wish to say. Never speak to me of your love, or I shall leave this studio never to return. If you forget for a single moment this condition of my presence here, you never will see me again.”
He looked at her, crushed by this unexpected harshness; then he understood, and murmured: