I did not know. But my voice trembled a little as I said: "I need not answer you, Desiree. I repeat that there is nothing to forgive. You sought revenge, then sacrificed it; but still revenge is yours."
She looked at me for a moment in silence, then said slowly: "I do not understand you."
For reply I took her hand in my own from where it lay idly on my knee, and, carrying it to my lips, pressed a long kiss on the top of each of the slender white fingers. Then I held the hand tight between both of mine as I asked simply, looking into her eyes:
"Do you understand me now?"
Another silence.
"My revenge," she breathed.
I nodded and again pressed her hand to my lips.
"Yes, Desiree. We are not children. I think we know what we mean. But you have not told me. Did you mean what you said that day on the mountain?"
"Ah, I thought that was a play!" she murmured.
"Tell me! Did you mean it?"