Something in the tone seemed to move her strongly. She turned away, burying her face in her hands.
“But you have interfered now, haven’t you?” inquired Newman of the marquis.
“Neither then nor now have I attempted to influence my sister. I used no persuasion then, I have used no persuasion to-day.”
“And what have you used?”
“We have used authority,” said Madame de Bellegarde in a rich, bell-like voice.
“Ah, you have used authority,” Newman exclaimed. “They have used authority,” he went on, turning to Madame de Cintré. “What is it? how did they use it?”
“My mother commanded,” said Madame de Cintré.
“Commanded you to give me up—I see. And you obey—I see. But why do you obey?” asked Newman.
Madame de Cintré looked across at the old marquise; her eyes slowly measured her from head to foot. “I am afraid of my mother,” she said.
Madame de Bellegarde rose with a certain quickness, crying, “This is a most indecent scene!”