"And you—did you understand?"
"Of course!"
She sprang to the floor, and went to the dressing-table on the pretext of seeking a comb.
"I don't like the way you talk to me," she said, with her back to him.
"Why?"
The real reason she could not avow—that she resented this immovable impersonality of his attitude. This man, who saw into her, who divined so much that she believed securely masked, and yet showed no trace of emotion even in his flattery, began to irritate her, as well as to arouse all the dangerous vanities. But, as she could not tell him this, she assumed an indignant manner and said:
"I believe you really think I shall turn into an adventuress!"
"No-o," he said slowly, as if reflecting. "You may come near it—very near it; but it will be a hazard of the imagination. You will end very differently!"
"Ah, yes," she said, suddenly remembering, her irritation yielding to her curiosity, "you were going to prophesy. Well, what's going to happen to me?"
"You will be angry if I tell you," he said, with a whimsical pursing of his lips.