“My life has been a strange one, my friend. One may cleave closely to the awful precipices, and yet avoid them. That is true, is it not?”
“Yes; it is quite true.”
“Nicholas Carter, I would at least have you judge me fairly—and the day will come when you will do so.”
She stopped suddenly, laughed in a low tone, and half turned away.
“And now,” she said, with an entire change of tone, “let us return to present things and to the life we really live, not the one which we would like to live. The life we do live is false, hollow, filled with deceits, subterfuges, lies! The life I long to live in is true, sound, upright, filled with fairness and frankness and honesty. Now again—why are you here to-night?”
“I came here to this house, countess, expressly to see you and to talk with you.”
“Then you have accomplished your desire. Why are you in Washington?”
“I am here in pursuit of my profession.”
“Ah; that is frankness, at least—and we were not to be frank with each other any more, were we?”