"It is not the moment for petticoats—with the chance of your life before you and months of imprisonment hanging over your head."
"Oh, I am certain my appeal will get me off with a fine at most. You must remember, Countess, that only once in my life, despite incessant snares, have the fowlers really caged me. And even then I was let out every time I had to plead in one of your cases. It was quite illegal," and he laughed at the recollection of the many miracles his eloquence, now insinuating, now menacing, had achieved.
"Yes, you are marvellous."
"I marvel at myself."
"Let me see your new 'Open Sesame.' Is it ready?"
"No, no, Sophie," he said banteringly. "You know you mean you want to see your namesake's letter."
"That is not my concern."
"O Countess!" He tendered the letter.
"Hum," she said, casting a rapid eye over it. "Then you wrote her first."
"Only because the letter was wanted for the new edition of Heine, and I had no copy of it.".