“Mevrouw,” he resumed, as if he had something important to say to her, “I wish to ask you a direct question: tell me honestly, quite honestly, do you think me indiscreet?”
“For calling to see me? No, I assure you, Mr. Quaerts. It is very kind of you. Only ... if I may be candid ...”
She gave a little laugh.
“Of course,” he said.
“Then I will confess that I fear you will find little in my house to amuse you. I never see people....”
“I have not called on you for the sake of the people I might meet at your house.”
She bowed, smiling, as if he had paid her a compliment:
“Of course I am very pleased to see you. You are a great friend of Dolf’s, are you not?”
She tried each time to say something different from what she actually did say, to speak more coldly, more aggressively; but she had too much breeding and could not bring herself to do it.