"Of your tribulations," she laughed softly, and went on: "When I saw you I was nearly as startled as you were yourself. I had all my life determined that I would avoid you; but that night—ah! that night——"
"Well?"
"I don't know. I could not sleep. I cursed my man's clothes; and I would have given all I possessed to speak to you dressed as I am now. Then I sought you, and you avoided me. You insulted me, monsieur, at the Mirlitons."
"Ah! why—why did you not declare yourself then?" I muttered, speaking into the warmth of her delicious neck. "Think what we have lost—a whole year nearly of life and love!"
"Why, indeed! Just, I suppose, because I was a woman, filled with a woman's caprice; and the masquerade amused me, and I had my duties to perform—and how you evaded me! I was invited to meet you at dinner——"
"And I dined at the Café de Paris with a fool."
"Just so. And you ran away to Nice. Then the idea came to me—ah, yes, it was a fine idea!—I will make him meet me. And I slapped you on the shoulder with a glove."
"Yes; when I was seated in the box at the opera with a lady."
"Yes. Who was the lady? I was too excited to see anyone but you."
"She was——" Then I paused. And then I said—why, I can never tell—"She was a friend of my guardian."