"Would you care to?"
"Very much. Do you think Monsieur Wildresse would permit it?"
"I do what I choose."
"Oh!"
She misunderstood his amused exclamation, and she flushed up.
"My conduct has been good—so far," she explained. "Everybody knows it. The prix de la rosière is not yet beyond me. If a girl determines to behave otherwise, who can stop her, and what? Not her parents—if she has any; not bolts and keys. No; it is understood between Monsieur Wildresse and me that I do what I choose. And, Monsieur, so far I have not chosen—indiscreetly——" She looked up calmly. "——In spite of my painted cheeks which annoyed you——"
"I didn't mean——"
"I understand. You think that it is more comme il faut to exhibit one's freckles to the world than to paint them out."
"It's a thousand times better! If you only knew how pretty you are—just as you are now—with your soft, girlish skin and your chestnut hair and your enchanting grey eyes——"
"Monsieur——"