As the two men passed from the outer room into the hall Anastasia sank down on the settee again.
"Just Heaven!" she said, "but I expire with fatigue, simply expire."
Gabrielle looked at her mutinously. Then, sitting down beside her, she kissed her lightly on the cheek.
"You are malicious," she said; "you are very obstinate. Perhaps I too am obstinate. You will not succeed in driving me into—into marriage."
"Never a bit! I trust your own heart, dearest child, to do the driving."
"Ah! my heart—have I any left? Save where my mother and Bette are concerned, I sometimes wonder!"
"You don't give your heart the chance to speak. You are afraid of it, because you know beforehand what it would say, what it is already saying."
Madame St. Leger rose, shaking her head, big hat, waving plumes and all, with captivating petulance.
"How can I tell, how can I tell?" she exclaimed. "Is not marriage for me ancient history? Did I not read it all years ago, when I was still but an infant?"
"That is exactly the reason why you should read it again, now that you are no longer an infant—conceivably."