The journey was one long protestation of love. Perhaps the Countess of Cagliostro was right not to put Ralph to the test by holding out her hand for him to kiss. But in truth, though he had sworn an oath to win that charming young woman and was resolved to do so, he felt for her a respect which left him just enough courage to ply her with amorous words, and no more.
Did she hear him? For a while, yes—as one listens to a child telling you prettily how fond he is of you. Then she sank into a profound thoughtful silence which disconcerted him.
At last he cried:
“Speak to me, I implore you. I speak jokingly in order to be able to tell you things that I should not dare to tell you seriously. But, at heart, I’m afraid of you; and I do not know what I am saying. Answer me, I beg you. Say just a few words that will recall me to reality.”
“Only a few words?” she said slowly.
“Yes, just a few.”
“Well, then, here they are: Doudeville Station is quite near; and the railway is waiting for you.”
He crossed his arms with an air of indignation.
“And you?” he said.
“I?”