Dumb-founded at hearing her raise such objections, when I had fancied that I only needed to express my commands, I gazed at her in complete astonishment.
"But my wife will never know Kondjé-Gul!" I exclaimed. "She will live in her own home, and Kondjé-Gul will live here, so that nothing will be changed so far as we are concerned."
Upon this reasoning of mine, which I thought would seem decisive to her, the Circassian reflected for a moment as if embarrassed as to how she should answer me. But suddenly, just when I thought she was convinced, she said:
"All that you have said would be very true, if we were in Turkey; but you know better than I do that in your country, your religion does not permit you to have more than one wife."
"But," I exclaimed, more astounded than ever at her language, "do you suppose, then, that Kondjé-Gul could ever doubt my honour or my fidelity?"
"My daughter is a child, and believes everything," she continued. "But, for my own part, I have consulted a lawyer, and have been informed that according to your law she has become as free as a Frenchwoman, and has lost all her rights as cadine which she would have enjoyed in our country. Moreover I am informed that you can abandon her without her being able to claim any compensation from you."
I was struck dumb by this bold language and the expression with which it was accompanied. This was no longer the apathetic Oriental woman whose obedience I thought I commanded like a master. I had before me another woman whose expression was thoughtful and decided—I understood it all.
"While informing you that your daughter is free," I said, changing my own tone of voice, "this lawyer no doubt informed you also, that you could marry her to Count Kiusko?"
"Oh, I knew that before!" she replied, smiling.
"So you have been deceiving me these two months past, by leaving me to believe that you had answered him with a refusal?"