"Charming but inexplicable creature! Well, then, I consent to whatever you ask, and I will renew the vow I made at the last ball to be obedient, docile, and discreet. I accept your conditions beforehand, if you in return will leave me the joy of hoping to meet you again and holding finally in my arms her—"
"It must be so," she murmured absently, apparently replying rather to some thought in her own mind than to what he was saying.
But Léon noticed only her words, and they completely turned his head.
"Oh, how glad I am!" he cried. "Let us go away, dear, unknown Lady. Perfect my happiness by coming away with me out of this tiresome crowd. Let us go where I can tear off this odious mask and take your commands. Then in greater freedom than is possible here, let me pay love's debt."
As he spoke he drew her gently forward; but suddenly she paused, withdrew her arm, and regaining the haughty carriage that seemed natural to her she said in a calm cold voice:
"You are strangely mistaken, M. de Préval. Your rash transports and vain declarations offend and hurt me. Believe me, I am not what you dare to think, and I am entitled to more consideration, greater respect, and more prudence from you. I am going to overlook this offense, however, because I admit that my own odd behavior might well have misled you; but you must do all I tell you. Tomorrow you shall hear from me and I will then let you know exactly what conditions I mean to make. Till then, be patient and resign yourself."
As she spoke, she moved away into the crowd, intending to give him the slip, but he dashed after her in pursuit.
"No," he cried, "I am not going to leave you. You shall not run away like this. Cruel creature, you touch my heart, set my imagination on fire and then forsake me."
"Take me to my carriage," she said, and in her voice there rang a note of command.
He grasped the hand she offered, and again poured forth his lamentations and prayers, but all to no effect.