“But—to see you, mademoiselle.”
“I am not that sort of girl,” answered Catrina coldly. “I want the truth.”
De Chauxville gave a short laugh and looked at her.
“Prophets and kings have sought the truth, mademoiselle, and have not found it,” he said lightly.
Catrina made no answer to this. Her ponies required considerable attention. Also, there are some minds like large banking houses—not dealing in small change. That which passes in or out of such minds has its own standard of importance. Such people are not of much use in these days, when we like to touch things lightly, adorning a tale but pointing no moral.
“I would ask you to believe that your society was one incentive to make me accept the countess’s kind hospitality,” the Frenchman observed after a pause.
“And?”
De Chauxville looked at her. He had not met many women of solid intellect.
“And?” repeated Catrina.
“I have others, of course.”