“I was going to suggest that you could have both at certain fixed periods—whenever—I am out.”
“I am glad you did not suggest it.”
“Why?” she asked sharply.
“Because I should have had to go into explanations. I did not say all.”
Mrs. Bamborough was looking into the fire, only half listening to him. There was something in the nature of a duel between these two. Each thought more of the next stroke than of the present party.
“Do you ever say all, M. de Chauxville?” she asked.
The baron laughed. Perhaps he was vain of the reputation that was his, for this man was held to be a finished diplomatist. A finished diplomatist, be it known, is one who is a dangerous foe and an unreliable friend.
“Perhaps—now that I reflect upon it,” continued the clever woman, disliking the clever man’s silence, “the person who said all would be intolerable.”
“There are some things which go without it,” said De Chauxville.
“Ah?” looking lazily back at him over her shoulder.