"Give me your arm. I wish to walk," she said, in a quiet imperative.
He offered it silently, and they joined the moving procession.
"You are very quiet, madame," he observed presently.
"Let us go, then, to where we may speak freely."
They crossed the room to the now deserted dais, and here, behind the purple folds of the canopy's drapery, they halted and stepped apart. In this recess they were well screened from the throng, which they could see passing, repassing, mingling, circling in the space before them. And here, safe from curious eyes, Victorine removed the mask from her pallid face, and turned to the man. De Bernis also pulled off his silver disguise, breathing with relief as the air, hot though it was, touched his cheeks.
"And now, François, here, at last, we will talk together, as we should have done many weeks ago."
"What are we to say?" he asked, warily.
"You shall answer my accusation."
"What is that?" There was an expression very like a sneer upon his face.
"That you are tired of me. That you—intend—to desert me."