"Good," thought Leonor, "she's in love with Hervart; then she likes being contradicted and even laughed at a little. Or perhaps she's lying, so as to make me believe that Hervart is indifferent to her. Let's try and get a rise."
"At this age that sort of thing is permissible."
"That's why I don't get cross."
"And besides, he's very nice."
"Oh, so nice; I'm very fond of him."
"It doesn't take," thought Leonor. "Hervart, to her, is a god and we might go on talking till to-morrow without her understanding a single one of my insinuations or ironies."
He went on, nevertheless, picking out all the spiteful things that can be said with politeness.
"Old bachelors often have manias...."
"That's what I often tell him. For instance, his taste for insects.... But it amuses him so."
"She's invulnerable," said Leonor to himself.