She resisted half-serious, half-jesting.
"You go out and cool yourselves in the night-air. I don't care about such fellows as you."
"I suppose you want only counts and barons," one of them taunted her.
"I suppose you wouldn't even think the county-counsellor good enough!"
"That's my affair," she answered, "as to who is good enough for me. I have my choice. I can get any man I want."
They laughed at her and she flew into a rage.
"If you weren't such a beggarly crew and had anything to bet, I'd wager you any money that I'd seduce any man I want in a week. In a week, do I say? In three days! Just name the man."
Antonie quivered sharply and then sank with closed eyes, against the back of her chair. A dream of infinite bliss stole through her being. Was there salvation for her in this world? Could this coarse creature accomplish that in which beauty and refinement had failed?
Could she be saved from becoming a murderess? Would it be granted her to remain human, with a human soul and a human face?
But this was no time for tears or weakening.
With iron energy she summoned all her strength and quietude and wisdom. The moment was a decisive one.