I was annoyed and rose and moved to the door.
“You are going?”
“I am afraid I must. I have an appointment.”
“Ah, you resent my speaking to you?”
“No, dear, but—”
“But—?”
“I am afraid I cannot quite agree with you.”
Her face hardened. I made an effort.
“Belle-mère, I am doing no wrong. Surely you believe that. These men are nothing to me, not one of them.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “You love no one?” she asked.