"You have been here six days, and you have not given me the barest chance of speaking to you." There was a suspicion of drollery in his reproachful tones.
"Monsieur," replied madame, who, finding herself finally trapped with no avenue of escape, quickly adapted herself to the situation, the battle of evasion, "our last meeting has not fully escaped my recollection."
"All is fair in love and war. It came near being a good trick,—that blank paper."
"Not quite so near as might be. It is true that I did not suspect your ruse; but it is also true that I had but one idea and one intention, to gain the paper."
"And supposing it had been real, genuine?"
"Why, then, I should have at least half of it, which would be the same thing as having all of it." Contact with this man always put a delicate edge to her wit and sense of defense. She could not deny a particle of admiration for this strange man, who proceeded toward his ends with the most intricate subterfuge, and who never drew a long face, who accepted rebuffs with smiles and banter.
"You know, Madame, that whatever I have done or shall do is out of love for you."
"I would you were out of love with me!"
"The quality of my love …"
"Ah, that is what disturbs me—the quality!" shrewdly.