He waited; passivity was one of his strong points. It had frightened men before this.
Then, with a graceful movement, she swung suddenly round in her chair, looking up at him. She broke into a merry laugh.
“I believe you are actually in earnest!” she cried.
He looked quietly down into her face without moving a muscle in response to her change of humor.
“Very clever,” he said.
“What?” she asked, still smiling.
“The attitude, the voice, every thing. You have known all along that I am in earnest, you have known it for the last six months. You have seen me often enough when I was—well, not in earnest, to know the difference.”
Etta rose quickly. It was some lightning-like woman’s instinct that made her do so. Standing, she was taller than M. de Chauxville.
“Do not let us be tragic,” she said coldly. “You have asked me to marry you; why, I don’t know. The reason will probably transpire later. I appreciate the honor, but I beg to decline it. Et voil` tout. All is said.”
He spread out apologetic hands.