Anne crossed the room and put her arms round her companion, who accepted the caress with moist eyes.
"You will have me weeping in a moment, Gabrielle," said Anne.
"Let us weep together, then; only I shall weep from pure rage."
"There is peace in the convent," murmured Anne.
"Peace is as the heart is; and mine shall never know peace. I have been disillusioned too soon. I should go mad in a convent. Did I not pass my youth in one,—to what end?"
"If only you loved a good man."
"Or even a man," whimsically. "Go on with the thought."
"The mere loving would make you happy."
Madame searched Anne's blue eyes. "Dear heart, are you not hiding something from me? Your tone is so mournful. Can it be?" as if suddenly illumined within.
"Can what be?" asked Anne, nervously.