"No, not yet; there's the question, to begin with, whether he'll see me. But then ... how am I to take you to him? There are always servants hanging about in the doorways, to say nothing of the guards and halberdiers; in the anterooms you run up against a chamberlain at any moment. Really, it is impossible."
She grew angry:
"Begin by asking him. We'll see later how we're to get to him."
Dutri made graceful gestures of despair:
"But, Alexa, can't you really understand ... that it is impossible?..."
She made no reply, not wishing to reflect, her head filled with her stubborn fixed idea to see the prince, to insist on seeing him. And, suddenly, turning to him:
"Very well, if you don't care to do anything for me, you needn't think I shall help you in any way."
Her nervous, angry voice sounded louder than her first whispered words: the two girls heard her.
"Alexa," he besought her, gently.
"No, no," she resisted, curtly.