“And you did not stop it,” he said, looking at her with undisguised contempt.
“I have no control. I used to have a little; now I have none.”
She finished with a gesture, describing the action of a leaf blown before the wind.
“But I have put off the signing of the papers until Wednesday,” she continued. “I have undertaken to provide two witnesses, yourself if you will consent, the other—I thought we might get the other from Fréjus between now and Wednesday. A boat from St. Florent to-night could surely, with this wind, reach St. Raphael to-morrow.”
The abbé was looking at her with manifest approval.
“Clever,” he said—“clever.”
Mademoiselle Brun rose to go as abruptly as she had come.
“Personally,” she said, “I shall be glad to be rid of Perucca for ever—but I fancied there are reasons.”
“Yes,” said the priest, slowly, “there are reasons.”
“Oh! I ask no questions,” she snapped out at him with her hand on the door. On the threshold she paused. “All the same,” she said, “I do ask a question. Why does Colonel Gilbert want to buy?”